


Dancing on the Strings

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-08-17 06:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 61,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: Robert Baratheon was not a good man, nor a good father. Even still, on his death bed he asked his only daughter to do him a favour - to find the son he'd abandoned and be his family.She finds him, along with a group of friends who show her that family doesn't have to be what you're born into, it can be what you choose. Even still, are they strong enough to conquer the sins of their parents?*Title is from a quote by Tyrion Lannister from A Storm of Swords - “It all goes back and back," Tyrion thought, "to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads.”





	1. The Young Doe and the Quiet Bull

 

**Myrcella**

Despite this very moment being the reason she’d come to the the Vale in the first place, she couldn’t quite believe she was here.

 

She parked her car in the visitors parking lot and walked purposefully through the quad. All around her students were walking together in small groups or on their own. They all seemed to have so much purpose, they all seemed so _happy_.

 

The leaves had started to turn and even fall due to the higher altitude and it was an autumnal paradise against the red brick background of the centuries old buildings.

 

Just like that Vale University shot to the top of her list.

 

She asked a group of girls where she could find the rugby fields and they gave her a knowing smirk and pointed in the direction she’d already been heading. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her light wool coat, focusing more on eradicating each of fuzz than on what she was here to do.

 

She made it to the rugby field quickly, where a practice was just letting up. Just like she planned.

 

It was all very course catalogue, the fresh air had whipped blushes into all the boys cheeks and they had dirt on their knees and they were all laughing and clapping one another on the back.

 

They started to wander off the field, grabbing water bottles and gym bags. A few shot her curious glances and she fought the desire to pull down the hem of her skirt.

 

There was one though, that didn’t look at her, and she went straight for him.

 

“Excuse me,” she said, in as strong a voice as she could manage.

 

His friends all turned their attention to her but she kept her focus on him. He had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair made darker by his sweat. He was tall and broad, a big oak tree, but quiet. He hadn’t seemed to say a word, she’d only seen him chuckling at what the other boys had said.

 

“Yeah beautiful?,” a friend of his with a cocky grin said.

 

“Leave her alone, Greyjoy,” another said, “She’s not here for you.”

 

She ignored them, though she noted that the second one that had spoken had dark russet curls and bright blue eyes.

 

“Are you Gendry Waters?,” she asked the quiet dark haired boy.

 

“That’s me,” he nodded and looked at her curiously, even a bit suspiciously, “Do I know you?”

 

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “Could I speak with you for a moment…,” she asked and glanced warily at his friends, “Alone?”

 

The russet hair boy slapped another on the chest, “Come on boys, pack it up. Waters - just remember my sister can kick your ass.”

 

The other boys ambled away and she and Gendry watched them go.

 

He turned back to her and said, “So? What can I do for you?”

 

Myrcella Baratheon was always prepared. She never walked into a test without having studied all of the material, she never showed up for a debate without having mastered her arguments, she carried condoms though she’d never done more than kiss a boy. She would have been a girl scout if her mother hadn’t branded it _common_.

 

But nothing could have prepared her for this moment.

 

“There’s no easy way to say this, Gendry,” she said, placing her hands behind her back so that he couldn’t see her fidgeting, “But, well… I’m your sister.”

 

“My sister?,” he asked, his face contorted into disbelief.

 

His eyes wandered over her as though trying to reconcile the different color eyes and hair, the differences in height and stature.

 

“Half-sister,” she amended, because she didn’t like the way his appraisal left her feeling substandard. “I’m Myrcella Baratheon. My father… _our_ father met your mother three years before I was born. He… they…”

 

“Fucked,” he supplied harshly and it took every bit of strength in her not to flinch. “I know the story. Your father seduced my Mum, told her he was going to leave his wife - his perfect, rich wife who I’ll bet looks just like you - and then left her pregnant and alone.”

 

“He found out my mother was pregnant too…,” she tried to explain though she wasn’t entirely sure why she was making excuses for him. Maybe because he was dead and he’d never get to apologise himself, never get to make Gendry understand. Maybe because in spite of everything else he was, he was still her father, “He… he always regretted it. He told me… before he died. He asked me to find you.”

 

“And why would he do that exactly?,” Gendry asked.

 

He let out a harsh chuckle, shaking his head, his fist clenching.

 

_You look just like him._

 

“So neither of us would be alone,” she said softly.

 

This was worse though, than being alone. The look of hatred in his eyes, it was worse than just about everything.

 

“Aren’t you from some big family or something?,” he asked her, “Aren’t you practically _royalty_ down south? What do _you_ know about being alone, Princess?”

 

She felt her cheeks redden and her blood boil. Who was he to tell her what _she_ knew? He didn’t know her. She wasn’t even the reason their father left him. That was Joffrey. She was just a part of trying to make it work between her parents.

 

“More than you might imagine,” she said primly.

 

He looked her up and down again and nodded, “If that’s so then you’ll recognise what walking away looks like, but here, let me show you.”

 

With that he grabbed his bag and walked off in the other direction, not even towards campus but back across the field, towards the woods. She watched him get smaller and smaller, though it felt to her that she was the one shrinking.

 

_I’m sorry Dad._

 

She turned and walked briskly through the quad, willing herself not to cry. She hadn’t cried since her Dad died, and that was two years ago. This was different, she hadn’t lost anything, it was foolish to be upset about something you never actually had.

 

Even still her vision was getting blurry so she didn’t see the russet haired boy until she was nearly next to him. He was talking to some beautiful girl with auburn hair and long legs but he abandoned her to fall into step beside her.

 

“Hey so how do you know Gendry?,” he asked her curiously.

 

“I don’t,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

 

“Aw don’t be upset about him, he’s only got eyes for one girl. My sister, and she’s terrifying. It makes him a bit gruff around other beautiful girls,” he said with a grin.

 

“That’s not -,” she said, trying desperately to brush away the tears that were now stubbornly falling.

 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, tugging gently on her arm, “Was it something I said? I…”

 

He was looking down at her earnestly with his warm blue eyes and it only made her want to cry harder so she wrenched her arm away from him with as much dignity as she could muster.

 

“I’m fine,” she lied.

 

“You don’t look fine,” he said softly.

 

He looked at her like he might offer to buy her a hot chocolate, like he’d listen to the whole story and say sweet, reassuring things. He looked like he pitied her.

 

Myrcella had never been pitied in her entire life and she couldn’t bear to be looked at like a stupid little girl once more today.

 

“Well it’s none of your business,” she said harshly.

 

He flinched as though she’d struck him, his warm blue eyes widening in alarm. She turned on her heel and walked away and he didn’t follow her.

 

It was what she wanted, to be alone.

 

Even still it somehow felt like she had lost two things in as many minutes.


	2. The Wolf's Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this story is going to be a lot more balanced, with all of the main characters having POV chapters. It's not going to revolve around any one relationship in particular.
> 
> I'm really nervous because I've never written from Gendry or Arya's perspective and never really focused on them - so please let me know what you think!

**Gendry**

 

“You should have _seen_ her,” Gendry seethed, “She was just standing there like… like I would _want_ to know her.”

 

He had been on the phone with his girlfriend for the last fifteen minutes, and this was at least his second time on that point. Arya was patient though, always had been - except when it came to their courtship - and listened to him drone on and on about _Myrcella Baratheon_.

 

Her very name was dripped in 14 carat gold and that was to say nothing of her voice that sounded like money and the coat that had to be at least $800 and every other infuriating thing about her.

 

“And _then_ then she had the audacity to _defend_ him,” he raged.

 

He had to admit that she didn’t say much by way of defence, but he had seen the way she tried to explain it away, like she was reading from a script.

 

“What I don’t understand,” Arya said, “Is if he regretted it so much, why was it her showing up at your practice. Why not him?”

 

Gendry closed his eyes, forcing the lump in his throat back down. It was stupid, to be upset about it. The bastard had never given him a second thought when he was alive, why should he care that he was dead?

 

“Because he… he’s _dead_ ,” he whimpered like a child.

 

“ _Oh, baby_ ,” Arya said in that soft tone she used only rarely. The one that never failed to make his heart expand to three times its normal size. “I am… so sorry Gendry. It’s… it’s okay to be upset. He was your father, I know he didn’t really deserve the title but… you don’t have to be like him, baby. It’s okay to feel it. I promise, it’s alright.”

 

He let out a sob, letting his hand holding the phone to fall down to his thigh, his other hand covering his mouth. Another violent one ripped through his chest, destroying any chance he had at pretending that he wasn’t affected by it, by her, by the father he’d never known.

 

“Arya?,” he asked after a moment.

 

“I’m here,” she promised. “I’m always here, you know that.”

 

“She…,” he said, now that the dam had busted open he really allowed himself to think about her. She had seemed young, maybe Arya’s age, and he hadn’t even gotten her number, hadn’t even asked if she had a place to stay, hadn’t asked anything. “I just let her go. She’s the only family I have left and I just let her go.”

 

“You’ll get her back,” Arya promised, “We’ll find her, alright? I swear it by the old gods and the new. And Gendry?”

 

“Yeah?,” he asked.

 

“She’s not the only family you have left,” she told him, “I’m your family, and you’re mine.”

 

“I know, darlin’,” he nodded.

 

She’d told him for the first time at his mother’s funeral. She’d flown down south with Robb, Jon and Theon. They’d only been dating for a couple of weeks and he’d been on his own in front of his mother’s grave.

 

_“Hey you,” she said, slipping her tiny hand into his._

 

_“She would’ve liked you,” he told her. “She liked girls with fire.”_

 

_“I’m sure I would have liked her too, baby,” she said softly, leaning her cheek against his arm, “I know, I know there’s nothing I can say. So I’m just going to stand here with you. As long as you want.”_

 

_He nodded, gripping her hand and bringing it to his lips, both of his holding her tiny one. It could have been minutes or hours later when the first sob took over his body, and she just stood there, like she promised, pressing her cheek to his arm._

 

_“I’m all alone,” he whimpered, though her presence belied the statement. “I’ve got no family.”_

 

_“I can be your family,” she vowed._

 

_Their relationship was only weeks old, not sturdy enough to balance your life upon, even still he felt roots taking hold like those of a giant oak tree. He should have told her that he couldn’t ask her that, couldn’t put that kind of pressure on her. She was only sixteen, it wasn’t right to burden her. Even still, she leaned against him like he wasn’t a burden, like he might carry her too._

 

“What’s her name?,” she asked.

 

“Myrcella Baratheon,” he sighed.

 

“Myr-Gendry, I know her,” Arya said, “She just transferred here… she’s in my history class…”

 

Arya went to Arryn Academy, the boarding school that her two elder siblings, Sansa and Robb, had also attended before enrolling at Vale University. It was only a few miles from here, and it wasn’t unusual for the overachieving students to wander into Vale’s library looking for research materials.

 

It was how they knew each other in the first place, she and Sansa had come to all their rugby games last year with a group of their friends. They were insanely close with their older brother Robb, and had grown up with Jon and Theon too.

 

“She…,” he started.

 

“Do you want me to talk to her for you?,” Arya offered.

 

“No!,” he exclaimed and if it was any other girl on the other end of the phone she would have flinched, “No I… I don’t think I’m ready. But…”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s okay,” Arya promised.

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

She wandered through the stacks of Vale’s main library looking for a book on the Braavosi painter, Daxos the Younger that she needed for her paper for her Art of the Free Cities class.

 

She grabbed one that looked like it might be useful and opened it up to the index, wondering if it discussed the specific paintings she was writing about. She flipped to the pages noted, delighting in the beautiful street scenes the artist was famous for.

 

“Pretty,” a voice said behind her, covering her hands and closing the book.

 

“I was reading that,” she scolded.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he sounded anything but, his nose pressing into her hair, his hands still on hers, pulling them against her body so that he held her tightly in his arms. “Won’t you forgive me?”

 

“No,” she smiled.

 

“Please,” he asked, one hand brushing her long hair to the side, the other still holding her up against his chest. He pressed a kiss to to her neck and she couldn’t help but tilt her head to the side, offering more of herself to him. He took her hint and pressed another, dragging his lips up her column. “Forgive me, love.”

 

“ _Beg_ ,” she demanded, though it came out as a whimper.

 

She felt his triumphant smile against her neck but she couldn’t be bothered to care, not when he was holding her like that.

 

He pressed more kisses to her neck, hot, open mouthed ones that had her holding onto him for support. He held onto her tightly, as his nose trailed up her cheek and then he pressed kisses to her temple and then another behind her ear in the spot that always made her see stars.

 

“Forgive me, Sansa,” he said in that low gravelly voice, “Forgive me, my love, my beauty, forgive me.”

 

He was too much, he was always too much and she turned in his grasp, the forgotten book falling to the floor and she took his face in her hands and kissed his waiting lips.

 

She was up against the stacks in the next moment, his hands holding her neck, his thumbs underneath her chin, tilting her face up to his.

 

“ _Jon_ ,” she breathed out, tugging him against her.

 

“I’m mad for you, Sansa,” he told her before capturing her lips again, his tongue wandering into her mouth and meeting hers. He pulled away from her and his eyes were black as he looked down at her, “Absolutely mad.”

 

He attacked her neck and she scrunched his sweater in her hands as he pressed toe-curling kisses to her.

 

“ _Jon_ ,” she sighed, pulling him closer. His hand cupped her face gently while his lips were anything but, “Jon, Jon we have to stop, anyone could see us.”

 

He sighed but straightened up. He may be mad but he was still Jon Snow, he’d never pressure her.

 

“Let me tell him,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers.

 

Except with this.

 

“Jon, we’ve talked about this,” she whined.

 

“I know,” Jon said, cupping her face in his hands, “We talked about it after your graduation and all summer, I’m sick of this Sansa, I’m sick of sneaking around.”

 

“I thought you _liked_ it,” she teased, pulling him against her once more and whispering in his ear, “I thought it turned you on, our little secret.”

 

He groaned and pushed himself away from her. He took a few steps away and she straightened up, wondering if she’d pushed him too far. They still hadn’t… well they _hadn’t_ , and sometimes he’d have to just walk away from her.

 

“It did,” he said and turned to her and closed his eyes, “It… does… but Sansa,” he said stepping closer to her once again. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb resting against her cheekbone. “It’s not _enough_ for me, not anymore.”

 

_No, no don’t do this. Don’t say that. I need you._

 

“Why?,” she whimpered, “What’s changed?”

 

He looked at her like she was the silliest girl in all of Westeros. His charcoal eyes traced over her face and he shook his head, his other hand coming up to stroke her face as well. He who could grip her so roughly could also be incredibly gentle, as though she were made of glass, or porcelain, something fragile but precious.

 

“What’s changed?,” he asked with a soft chuckle, “I became painfully aware of just how completely in love with you I am, what else? What else would make me foolish enough to risk death, a _terrible_ death, by telling Robb about us?”

 

“You love me?,” she asked.

 

“You know I do,” he said to her meaningfully.

 

She looked over his handsome face and realised that she did know that. Of course she did. Why else would the broody Jon Snow stay in and watch Clueless with her when she had her period? Why would he meet her after class, proffering her favorite lemon cookies? Why would he risk hurting his best friend, his brother really, if he didn’t love her?

 

“I guess it _is_ a bit obvious,” she giggled, pulling him against her and kissing him. She wrapped her arms around her neck and rested her weight against him. He held her steady, like always and let her kiss him, pressing quick kisses to his lips and then his cheeks and then his eyelids and his nose. The broody Jon Snow let out a carefree laugh and she kissed his mirthful lips once again. “I love you too, by the way.”

 

“I know,” he said with a grin, but his eyes turned serious, “And it’s time everyone else does too.”

 

“Fine,” she sighed, “We’ll tell him. But _first_ I have a paper to write.”


	3. The She-Wolf and the Doe

**Arya**

 

It was difficult, not speaking to her. They didn’t have any classes together, they didn’t live in the same dormitory, but it seemed as though she saw her everywhere.

 

In the library, her golden head bent over a book, in the cafeteria, eating with a group of girls whom Arya had never taken to. They were the same girls who had looked up to Sansa and who had intimidated her since her freshman year, only speaking to her when they thought she might help them get in with one of her older siblings - because of course they all had crushes on Robb and spoke of him, Jon and Theon reverently still.

 

Even as Myrcella lived among them, she seemed apart from them in a way. Perhaps it was because she hardly seemed to speak, or the way they always seemed to seek her out rather than the other way around, or maybe it was just the way her back always seemed rigid around them.

 

The only time she’d ever seen her relax was when she’d passed the ballet studio on her way from fencing practice. Myrcella was alone and though she looked the part of the perfect ballerina, she was dancing with her eyes closed, a small, contented smile on her face.

 

She understood Gendry’s disdain for her immediately. That kind of perfection could only inspire two feelings: reverence or abhorrence.

 

Even still, she understood his concern for her too. So she did as he asked, she looked out for her.

 

From what Arya could tell, she was inimitably well but unspeakably lonely.

 

It was Friday afternoon and she was heading back to her dorm to get ready for the evening. She had an off-campus pass for the weekend and would be staying with Sansa - at least as far as Arryn Academy and her parents were concerned anyway.

 

It started raining as she exited the library and she looked in her backpack in vain for the umbrella that she knew she hadn’t packed. She never seemed to have it when she needed one.

 

She pulled her jacket over her head and knew that her new sneakers would be ruined before she made it back to her dorm.

 

“Wait up!,” someone called and she turned around ready to glare at them when she saw the object of her curiosity coming towards her with a giant maroon umbrella.

 

Before Arya could say anything she was under its protection and as close as she’d ever been to Myrcella Baratheon.

 

“T-thanks,” she stuttered, because it seemed rude not to.

 

“No problem,” Myrcella said sweetly, then added, “It’s fucking madness out here.”

 

The curse word sounded so crazy coming from her that Arya couldn’t help but giggle and nod.

 

“Want me to walk you to your dorm? It must be on the way to mine right - I’m in Royce Hall?,” she asked.

 

“Yeah I’m in Hornwood,” Arya nodded, “It’s right on the way - that’d be great… thanks.”

 

Myrcella smiled at her and they started walking towards their dorms. Arya looked over at her curiously and Myrcella didn’t turn her way, as though she were used to be watched, as though she didn’t even notice.

 

It struck her as odd that she didn’t strike up a conversation and the further they walked, the stranger it felt to start one, so they walked in silence. A great crackle of thunder raged in the sky and a moment later a giant bolt of lightning lit up the entire quad.

 

“Zeus is close by,” Myrcella whispered conspiratorially.

 

“Not Thor?,” Arya whispered back, unsure of why they were whispering.

 

Myrcella shook her head and said, “And not Perun either. Only Zeus.”

 

“What makes you so sure?,” Arya asked curiously.

 

“If there’s less than a heartbeat between the thunder and the lightning, it’s Zeus,” Myrcella explained. Arya raised her eyebrow and Myrcella grinned, “It’s what my father always…said.”

 

That stopped Arya short, and it was now Myrcella who raised her eyebrow at her. They kept on walking but Arya couldn’t get it out of her head. _Her father, and Gendry’s._

 

“What was he like?,” she wondered aloud before she could stop herself.

 

Myrcella looked over at her as though weighing whether or not she could be trusted with the information. It made her feel guilty for not telling her exactly who she was, and why she was curious, and how it annoyed her slightly that she could think of her father and smile.

 

“Rather like Zeus actually,” Myrcella offered, “Powerful and selfish, magnanimous when it suited him and a horrible philanderer, and at the end of it all, beholden to my mother.”

 

“She must be quite a woman,” Arya suggested as they slowed outside her dorm.

 

“More fate than woman, really. Beautiful and lethal, and merciless,” Myrcella amended, adding, “And no man nor god ever stood a chance against her.”

 

Arya stepped under the awning, safe from the rain.

 

“Thank you,” she said again.

 

“You’re welcome, Arya Stark,” Myrcella grinned just a bit before she turned and headed towards her dorm.

 

“You know my name?,” Arya couldn’t help but shout.

 

Myrcella turned back and giggled, “I make a habit of knowing the names of the people who stalk me. Now if Zeus comes around, you never saw me, alright?”

 

“It’s you he’s after?,” Arya giggled back as a great crash of thunder raged again, “What did you do?”

 

“I committed the greatest sin of all,” Myrcella confessed, “I looked him in the eye and saw him for what he was. I should have died, but I didn’t - and he’s been after me ever since.”

 

If it were any other girl she might think she was batty, but Myrcella winked at her knowingly and turned and walked onwards. In all her life, Arya had never seen a person more certain of who they were.

 

There were only two possible reactions to perfection like that, and it was with great reluctance that Arya realised that hers was reverence.

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

Though it was his idea to tell Robb, he never failed to find reasons not to.

 

On Tuesday, he’d stayed in the library late with Sansa, and then she’d told him in passing that her roommate was staying at her boyfriend’s, which never happened, so it seemed like a very big waste of an open room not to go back there and kiss her until his lips chapped.

 

On Wednesday, they’d had a rugby game and he hadn’t wanted to tell him before because he didn’t want to stress him out and then they’d won and had gone out to celebrate and it didn’t seem entirely fair to tell him then either. Though the idea of just telling him after he’d passed out did cross his mind.

 

On Thursday, well on Thursday he’d just chickened out.

 

Which brought him to today. Or rather, this moment, when he walked into the living room of his apartment that he shared with Robb and Theon and found Robb there on his own.

 

“Hey man,” Robb said, not glancing up from his phone, “Arya’ll be here tonight so we should stick to parties. Let’s pregame at the rugby house and go from there?”

 

“Sounds good,” Jon agreed, “Want a beer now?”

 

“It’s 2 o’clock, we’ve got a lecture in an hour,” Robb pointed out. Jon looked at him blankly. “Fuck it, grab me one.”

 

Jon went into the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge and opened them. He took a couple of sips of his before heading back into the living room and handing one to Robb.

 

He settled on one of the chairs and sipped his beer as Robb did the same.

 

“Did you hear about that girl?,” Robb asked him.

 

“Which one, Margery?,” Jon asked, citing one of the girls in Robb’s rotation.

 

He wasn’t as bad as Theon, who had a whole roster and was an asshole to each of the girls on it, but he was no saint. Robb liked girls, and gods, the girls loved him.

 

“Huh? No,” Robb shook his head, “The girl who came by our rugby practice?”

 

Jon furrowed his brow at him. The truth was, there were always girls at their rugby practices.

 

“I swear you are actually blind to pretty girls,” Robb said and raised his eyebrows, “Sure you don’t have something to tell me?”

 

Jon gulped. If there was ever a moment, this was it.

 

“Well uh…,” Jon started.

 

“Dude I was _kidding_ ,” Robb chuckled, “Anyway - the girl I’m talking about came by on Tuesday? Blonde hair? That maroon mini skirt with that long coat?”

 

Sansa had been wearing a skirt on Tuesday too. It was grey and made her legs look like they went on for ages - which they did.

 

Maybe he really was blind to other pretty girls.

 

“Anyway,” Robb went on, like he was hopeless, “Apparently she’s Gendry’s sister. Or I guess half-sister…”

 

That was enough to make him pause. Gendry was an only child, like him, and orphan, like him. They had a lot of similarities actually - their father’s had both run off on their mom’s, and their mom’s had both died before their time. Gendry was more similar to him than Robb and Theon too, more quiet, a bit more reserved.

 

And hopelessly in love with a Stark girl as well.

 

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find out that he had a sister. He thought about practice on Tuesday and could picture the girl now. She’d eyed them all warily like a pack of animals, which was fair from the way Robb and Theon and the rest of the team had been staring at her, but her voice had been steady. Undaunted.

 

“Fucking hell,” Jon sighed.

 

“I know, right?,” Robb said, shaking his head. He took a sip of his beer and let out a shaky little laugh, “I mean the idea that…,” he shook his head again. Jon stopped and looked at him, “Just the idea of not knowing Arya or Sansa… I just…”

 

If he couldn’t imagine having a sibling, it was equally impossible for Robb to imagine not having his. He was the oldest of the Stark brood and they all looked to him for guidance and protection, the younger boys modelling their behaviour off of him, and the girls understanding the way they should be treated because of him.

 

He was an utter fool for his sisters. Though he slept around a bit on his own time, with them he never failed to show them their worth. He was as likely to be getting in a guy’s face to defend them as he was to be sitting on the couch between them watching Love Actually for the 500th time.

 

He was particularly close with Sansa, which was one of the reasons this was so difficult. She was his first sibling, the closest in age, but it went far beyond that.

 

“I can’t even imagine what must be going through his head right now,” Jon lamented, “I mean…”

 

“And what about her?,” Robb asked, “You should’ve _seen_ her afterwards she-“

 

“Wait, how do you know what she looked like afterwards?,” Jon asked him curiously.

 

Robb colored and took a sip of his beer.

 

“Well I saw her, on her way back to the parking lot,” Robb explained. Jon narrowed his eyes at him and Robb sighed, “Fine - I was hoping to ask her out, alright? She’s fucking _exquisite_.”

 

Exquisite. That was a word Jon Snow did not hear every day. Never from Robb.

 

“Exquisite, is it?,” Jon asked.

 

“Shut up, man,” Robb sighed, “Fuck I was such an _ass_ … the poor girl looked like she was going to cry and I was just prattling on like a right prick. How was I supposed to know she’d just met her long lost brother? But I really fucked up. I wish I knew where she was.” Jon raised his eyebrows at him. “To apologise!”

 

“Right,” Jon nodded, “Just to apologise.”

 

“Don’t look at me like that! She’s his _sister_ , she’s off limits,” Robb argued.

 

“Even though he’s dating yours?,” Jon wondered.

 

“That was a one time exception,” Robb explained, “And mostly because Arya threatened to chop my balls off - and she’d do it too. But seriously, I mean, can you imagine if Theon tried to get with Sansa?,” Robb chuckled as though it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

 

“What uh… what do you reckon you’d do to him?,” Jon asked, because he was a masochist who couldn’t help himself apparently.

 

Robb took a sip of his beer and then set it down on the table.

 

“There are no words,” Robb shook his head, “All I can say is, there isn’t a place far enough for him to run.”

 

Jon nearly choked on his sip of beer. Robb stood up and hit him on the back and he gave him a thumbs up and a nod though he was still coughing. He got up and went into the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass of water.

 

He came back into the living room and Robb was looking at him in concern.

 

“You alright?,” Robb asked.

 

Jon nodded and Robb sat back down. He knew he should just tell him. The longer he hid it from him, the worse it would be.

 

Even still, living long enough to kiss Sansa once last time seemed reason enough to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love your thoughts! xx


	4. The Wolf and the Doe

**Robb**

 

“ _Wake uuuup_ ,” a cooing voice broke into his dreams.

 

Robb didn’t want to wake up, he didn’t know what time it was but he knew he hadn’t slept nearly enough. Even still he could feel his body being kissed and it felt rude not to at least open his eyes.

 

“Morning pretty girl,” he murmured.

 

The girl let out a breathy chuckle. _Margery_.

 

“I’m really horny so I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that,” Margery told him, “I’m going to pretend that you knew _exactly_ who you woke up with.”

 

“Course I knew,” he said, because when he thought about it, he had.

 

More often than not now it was Margery that he woke up with. There were a couple of other girls he slept with occasionally, but she was the only one he saw with any regularity. It was easier with Margery, because he wasn’t the only one for her either. The other girls looked at him with starry eyes, she just looked at him with lust.

 

“Mmhm,” she said, kissing his jaw, “I totally believe you…”

 

“But Marg I’m still asleep I can’t-,” he started.

 

Her hand wandered down his body to his cock though and she purred in his ear, “There’s one part of you that’s awake.”

 

She stroked it a few times and he let out a groan because her hands were magic.

 

“You just lie back, gorgeous,” Margery said, “I only need this part of you.”

 

He chuckled and nodded, closing his eyes as she straddled him. He didn’t mind her using him, _not at all_ , he thought as she sunk down onto him.

 

With other girls he might feel the need to guide their actions, but Margery knew exactly what she was doing. He opened his eyes after a moment because though he was tired, the sight of her riding him was worth waking up for.

 

She didn’t disappoint, she never did. Her head was thrown back, her long brown hair was tickling his thighs with every thrust, and she had one hand squeezing her breast and the other rubbing herself.

 

He knocked her hand away and pressed against her little pearl the way he knew she liked it.

 

 _“Oh Robb, fuck, that’s it!_ ,” she cried, though she was doing all the work.

 

She started riding him more erratically and he was rubbing her more furiously.She came with a scream and he released into her shortly after.

 

She got off of him without ceremony and started getting dressed.

 

“You uh, don’t have to run off,” he told her, “Do you want some coffee or something?”

 

She chuckled as she shimmied into her jeans, “Who needs coffee after that? Don’t worry, gorgeous, I’m not going to go write about you in my diary.”

 

“Feel free to,” he shrugged, “It’ll be a nice addition to my memoirs.”

 

She giggled and came over and sat on the bed next to him. He sat up and pressed a kiss to her neck. She always looked her most delicious when she was leaving.

 

“You know what the thing is about you, Robb Stark?,” she asked.

 

“Tell me,” he urged.

 

“Sometimes I get the feeling that you want me to think you’re an asshole, but you’re not,” she said, pushing him away as he went to suck on her earlobe.

 

“What am I then?,” he asked.

 

She was right so far, the girl was as clever as she was pretty, which was really saying something. She understood people the way Sansa did, she just went a step further and utilised that understanding to her benefit.

 

“Just a boy,” Margery said, stroking his cheek. Her clear blue eyes looked over his face and he suddenly felt more naked than he had a moment ago. “Just a boy who has never been in love.”

 

She kissed him on the lips and got up, pulling on her boots and grabbing her coat that was hanging over his desk chair.

 

“Marg?,” he asked as she got to the door. She turned back and raised her eyebrow at him, “How can you tell?”

 

She gave him a knowing smile and said, “Because you’re the kind of boy who is only going to fall in love once, and when you do…”

 

“What?,” he wondered.

 

“It might just kill you.”

 

 

***

 

**Myrcella**

 

 

With the help of a friendly barista she settled herself into a comfortable booth at Alysanne’s bakery on Sunday afternoon. She’d just been riding for the morning and the sky had thankfully not turned dark until she had stabled Oakheart and gotten him happily settled with carrots and apples.

 

She’d come right from the stables and wore her jodhpurs and a thick navy blue turtleneck sweater, her hair back in the braid she always wore while riding.

 

She pulled out the book she was reading for her literature class, a medieval story of courtly love and sipped her chai latte as she devoured the pages of devotion and betrayal.

 

She was just starting to get hungry when a plate with a vanilla scone on it was placed down in front of her. She wondered if the barista was psychic and looked up to ask, only to find a pair of sorry blue eyes looking down at her.

 

His russet curls were wet from the rain and his cheeks had that healthy blushed quality to them.

 

“It’s you,” she mused.

 

He gave her a sheepish grin that she guessed got him more phone numbers than any pick-up line and nodded.

 

“It’s me, the asshole that tried to hit on you when you were trying to reunite with your long lost brother,” he admitted.

 

She smirked and offered, “And here I’d spent all week thinking I was the asshole for crying while you were trying to hit on me.”

 

He let out a surprised chuckle and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She wasn’t ready for him to know that the sound of it warmed her insides, though it did.

 

“I’m Myrcella,” she offered along with her hand.

 

“Robb,” he gave along with his.

 

Despite having just been out in the cold rain his hand was warm as it engulfed hers. She pulled hers back before he did and her fingers missed the warmth immediately.

 

“So anyway, this is my peace offering,” Robb said, gesturing to the scone.

 

“How do you know I didn’t want a chocolate croissant?,” she challenged.

 

“You look like a vanilla girl,” he offered with a shrug.

 

“Boring?,” she guessed.

 

“Classic,” he countered. “But of course I can take it back if you don’t-“

 

“Don’t you dare!,” she said with a grin, grabbing the plate, “And thank you. For the scone, and the apology, though neither were necessary.”

 

She loved vanilla scones, and it had been what she’d planned on ordering just before it had been placed in front of her.

 

“Well anyway, don’t lose hope, alright? Gendry is one of the best guys I know… he just… has a temper and needs to rage a little bit before he can come to his senses,” he told her.

 

“Just like Dad,” she nodded.

 

She’d seen it immediately, as though the bright blue eyes and brown hair weren’t enough to scream it. Gendry was a Baratheon, certainly more of a Baratheon than she was. It wasn’t just the Lannister’s coloring she’d inherited, after all.

 

Her father had never been able to hide his emotions, or at the very least, never seemed interested in doing so.

 

“Oh… that must be… tough?,” Robb sympathised, his brow furrowing in concern.

 

“He never directed it at me,” she tried to reassure him with a small smile.

 

“Oh,” he nodded and then his eyes widened, and she knew that he had just registered the tense she had used, “ _Oh fuck I knew that_. I keep messing this up don’t I?”

 

“I’m just surprised you’re still trying,” she teased then decided to put him out of is misery, “How do you feel about vanilla?”

 

“It’s my favorite,” he said, and his grinned widened when she gestured to the chair opposite her, “And I’m not still hitting on you by the way.”

 

She wasn’t entirely sure that she believed him, but she wasn’t going to press the issue as he grabbed hold of the chair. It made a loud, angry noise from the force of him pulling it back and he gave her the sheepish smile again. He took off his wet jacket and went to hang it on the hook next to where hers was drying.

 

She broke off a piece of the scone and raised it to her lips. It melted on her tongue and she chewed with a contented smile, watching him as he came back and sat down, picking up his coffee and took a sip. He kept eye contact with her as he did and then all of a sudden he started sputtering and coughing.

 

“Are you alright?,” she wondered.

 

“Fine,” he nodded, his ears bright red. _Maybe the sheepish smile isn’t an act_. “So Myrcella, huh? That’s kind of a mouthful…”

 

“You can call me Ella,” she allowed, pushing the plate with the scone towards him. “Wouldn’t want you to choke or anything…”

 

He broke off a piece and pushed it back to her and brought it to his lips. He smiled too and she took a sip of her drink just to have something to do. She was rarely unnerved by anyone, a lifetime of her father’s and grandfather’s friends and business associates had taught her not to be, but there was something about his blue gaze that made her wish she’d changed before coming here. Not that he seemed to mind looking at her, given that he hadn’t stopped, but even still.

 

He shook his head after a moment and said, “Well you’re definitely Gendry’s sister. He’s a cheeky little shit too.”

 

She giggled and blushed when she saw the way he grinned at her when she did. She looked over his face, trying to figure him out. She usually didn’t have trouble but he was a disorienting combination of confidence and shyness. Something told her that at least some of it was an act, but she couldn’t tell which part. She wasn’t sure that he could either.

 

Either way, she remembered that he told her he had a sister. So maybe she’d understand.

 

“Do you…,” she started and he raised his eyebrows at her, “Would you…”

 

“Now who’s choking?,” he teased her, but his voice was soft.

 

“Gendry,” she finally breathed out. “You said your sister is his girlfriend?”

 

He nodded and said, “Yeah for about a year now.”

 

He pushed the plate with the scone closer to her. The problem was that she wasn’t very hungry anymore. Even still she took a small piece and pushed the plate back.

 

“Does she love him?,” she hoped.

 

He looked at her and he didn’t smile but he nodded, his nose scrunching when he said, “Madly.”

 

She smiled and laughed when she felt a tear fall out.

 

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, grabbing a napkin and dabbing her eye, “What is it with you? I haven’t cried in two years and around you I’m some sort of… blubbering machine.”

 

He smiled kindly and waved her off, “If this is your definition of blubbering…”

 

She thought she was going to be able to shake it off but a few more tears fell out of her eyes. Her eyes were burning and now it didn’t feel like it was going to stop.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I…”

 

She couldn’t finish her sentence so she stood up, grabbing her book. She looked at his alarmed face, wanting to explain but she couldn’t and she stuffed the book in her bag and walked towards the door, grabbing her coat.

 

She pulled it on and was relieved at least when she got outside to see that the rain had stopped for the most part.

 

“Ella, Ella wait up!,” she heard from behind her.

 

“Robb please,” she shook her head.

 

She couldn’t speak though as a sob welled up inside of her. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to stop the tears from leaving.

 

“I’m not going to touch you,” he told her.

 

“Okay,” she said warily, because she hadn’t thought that he would.

 

“I just want you to know that I am _actively_ suppressing the urge to hug you right now,” he explained.

 

“Okay,” she answered again.

 

The bubble of laughter that erupted from her lips was just as surprising as the sob, and just as uncontrollable. She removed her hands from her eyes and looked up at him. He was so tense, he looked like he was preparing to pick her up and run away with her.

 

“I’m okay now,” she said, wiping the tears. “Am I all blotchy?”

 

“Not the first word that comes to mind,” he said, his voice an octave lower than it had been. It lit her veins on fire.

 

He held out his hand though and in it was the last bit of scone. She bit her lip, trying not to smile but failing miserably. She broke half of it off and popped it into her mouth and he ate the rest.

 

“For what it’s worth,” Robb sighed, “He isn’t going to last long.”

 

“How do you know?,” she wondered.

 

“Because I’ve got four younger siblings,” he shrugged and then grinned, “And I don’t know if you know this, but you’re kind of irresistible.”

 

“I thought you weren’t hitting on me anymore?,” she challenged.

 

He let out a guffaw and said, “And Arya told me you were bright!”

 

With that he swiped her nose and started to walk back towards the cafe. The sky darkened and the air shifted, and it was obvious it was going to start raining again.

 

She furrowed her brow and called out, “Wait, Arya Stark? That’s your sister?”

 

He turned and grinned at her just as a crackle of thunder boomed. A flash of lightning followed quickly after.

 

“Better come along, Zeus will be here any minute,” he taunted her.

 

“You’re not scared for your life, Stark?,” she teased back.

 

His eyes went nearly black when he said, “Oh trust me, Baratheon, I’m terrified. I’ve been warned about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to be *that* writer, but I'd love to hear what you all think of this!


	5. The Pack Survives

**Gendry**

 

The days were growing shorter, so even though practice was at 4 o’clock the stadium lights were on. The cold caught like wildfire in his throat.

 

Many of the other guys felt it too, they ran slower, played poorer. Not the wolves though.

 

Jon and Robb came alive in this weather, having grown up with it in the north and having grown accustomed to playing in it from their time at Arryn Academy. Theon too, was long used to it and let out a deep chuckle when one of the other boys, Willem Bracken, stumbled as Theon dodged him.

 

He pushed through it as best he could, knowing Mormont would have little patience for him not giving his best. They had a big game on Friday and he wanted to be prepared.

 

It was a mercy though, when practice ended. He walked towards the sidelines to grab his water bottle.

 

“Hey man,” Jon said, falling into step next to him.

 

He was bleeding on his face and on his knee, but he showed no signs of caring. Jon was accustomed to bleeding on the field, they all were, and it would only be Sansa who made a fuss about it, calling them a pack of animals as she placed a bandage or cleaned a cut.

 

He knew that Jon in particular enjoyed that part, smiling at the beautiful Stark girl as she lectured him on scars and infections. He didn’t mind it either, the way Sansa coddled them all, but he didn’t like it the way he suspected Jon did.

 

“Hey,” he nodded at him.

 

“Can I buy you a beer?,” Jon asked.

 

They were friends, got on well, but neither of them really pursued anyone else. Jon was always just with Robb and Theon, the quietest of the three of them, and he never seemed to seek anyone else’s company.

 

“Uh, sure,” Gendry nodded, “Meet you at Crow’s Nest in an hour?”

 

Jon nodded at him and jogged off. He went and tackled Theon to the ground and then ran off before Theon had gotten up.

 

Robb chuckled and shook his head, extending his hand down to Theon who let out a guffaw shouting, _“Your days are numbered, Snow!”_

 

Gendry grabbed his stuff and headed back to his dorm. He was an RA because it meant free housing and he nodded to a few of the freshman. He smelled weed coming out of one room and he knocked.

 

“UHHH JUST A MINUTE!,” he heard from inside.

 

He opened the door and found a couple of freshman with red eyes looking at him innocently.

 

“What’s going on in here?,” he asked sternly.

 

“Nothing,” Hot Pie said, bringing a full loaf of bread to his lips and taking a bite.

 

“Where is it?,” Gendry asked.

 

“Here,” Lommy groaned, proffering the joint.

 

Gendry stepped forward and took it from his hand. He looked at all of them sternly before raising it to his lips and taking a hit.

 

Hot Pie’s jaw nearly hit the floor when he handed the joint back to him and said, “At ease, gentlemen.”

 

He walked out of the room, resisting the urge to laugh to himself. He didn’t care if they were smoking or drinking. As long as no girls were being treated badly and no one was dying of alcohol poisoning, he wasn’t going to get in the way.

 

He showered quickly and answered his ringing phone.

 

“Hello m’lady,” he said.

 

“Can’t you just call me babe like a normal boyfriend?,” Arya scoffed.

 

“Where’s the fun in that?,” he asked as he grabbed some clothes out of his closet.

 

“I’m heading to Robb’s for dinner,” Arya noted, though she needn’t have. The Stark’s weekly dinners were sacred to all of them and nobody else was ever invited. Not even Jon, who might as well be a brother to Arya and Robb. “Should I stop by on the way?”

 

“I’m heading to meet Jon for a drink, actually,” he told her.

 

“That’ll be a conversation for the ages,” Arya teased, then did a series of grunts which were clearly meant to be him and Jon.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “But let me know how late you’ll stay and I’ll walk back to theirs with Jon and see you before you head back to campus.”

 

He couldn’t wait for Arya to graduate. Her plan was to come to Vale University and he knew that she would be a shoo-in. She had the grades and the extracurriculars, being one of the best fencers in the country, she went to Arryn Academy, which was a feeder school, and she was a legacy. Not only Robb and Sansa went here, but so did their father and both of his brothers.

 

She got off campus a lot, but it would be so much different when she could be around all the time. When they didn’t have to worry about her dorm curfew.

 

“Alright, bye baby,” Arya said and clicked off.

 

He got dressed and walked through campus to the pub on the edge of it. When he got inside, he saw Jon already sitting there, a glass of whiskey in front of him, dressed in his usual black.

 

“Snow,” he greeted, taking the stool next to him.

 

“Waters,” Jon said, signalling for the bartender, “Thanks for meeting me.”

 

“No problem, should I be nervous?,” he asked.

 

Jon had been harder to convince than Robb when he and Arya had gotten together. He’d always been close with Arya, and had not been pleased when he’d caught the two of them kissing after one of their rugby games. His jaw had taken a while to heal after that one, making kissing her pretty painful, but he did it anyway.

 

“No, no,” Jon shook his head. “I uh… actually wanted to see how you were doing?”

 

Gendry took a sip of his whiskey and glanced at him curiously, “How I’m doing?”

 

“Yeah with…everything with your sister -,” he started.

 

“Half-sister,” Gendry corrected.

 

“More sister than you had a few weeks ago,” Jon pointed out. Gendry sighed and nodded. “Look, I’m sure you’re talking to Arya about this and I know you and I don’t really _talk_ like this, but we can… I think… I think I might understand a bit more than she might be able to.”

 

He stopped at the truth of that. Arya was understanding and sympathetic, but she came from the perfect family. The Starks were like a pack of wolves, protective one another and fiercely loyal. They had a weekly dinner, just the three of them for the love of the gods. She couldn’t understand what this was like for him. None of them could.

 

Except maybe Jon.

 

“I’m doing alright,” he sighed, then shook his head, “Fuck, no I’m not.”

 

“Have you seen her?,” Jon asked.

 

“Not since, no,” Gendry said, his cheeks flaming in shame.

 

He knew she was alright, that she was safe. Arya had assured him of that. Even still, she had moved up here to get to know him and he had just walked away from her.

 

Jon nodded and said, “Think you’re going to?”

 

“I don’t know,” Gendry answered honestly.

 

Jon sipped his whiskey and he sipped his. They sat in silence for a minute and Gendry couldn’t tell if he was judging him or not. That thought didn’t sit well with him. Jon always did the right thing.

 

“What would you do, if you were me?,” he wondered.

 

“If I found out that I had a sister, a girl in this world that shared my blood,” Jon shook his head and let out a pained laugh, “You can bet your ass I wouldn’t be on a barstool talking to you.”

 

“It’s not that simple,” Gendry evaded.

 

“It’s exactly that simple,” Jon argued. “Look you do whatever you want to do. But you asked me what _I_ would do, and I’m telling you that if I found out I had a sister, a little sister, who was beautiful and alone, who had crossed the country to get to know _me_ , there wouldn’t be anything that kept me from her.”

 

“Not even if her mother had stolen any chance of your mother’s happiness?,” he questioned.

 

Jon downed the rest of his whiskey and sighed.

 

“Isn’t blaming her for her mother’s actions a bit like her blaming you for your mother sleeping with her mother’s husband?,” Jon asked.

 

Anger stirred deep in his chest. He wouldn’t take anyone speaking ill of his mother.

 

“Watch it,” he growled.

 

Jon held his hands up and nodded, “I’m sorry, alright, man? I’m sorry. That was out of line. All I’m saying is that this girl moved across the country to find you. So at the very least, she’s better than her parents. She lost her father, she left the rest of her family, she’s alone. Just like you. And you’ve got a way of changing that.”

 

“Why do you even care about her?,” he wondered.

 

“I think the better question is, why don’t you?”

 

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

“Just a little,” Robb warned as Sansa poured a glass of wine for Arya. “She’ll lose off-campus privileges if she comes back drunk.”

 

Sansa rolled her eyes, knowing it would take more than a glass of Arbor Red to mess with her sister. She who could outdrink her boyfriend, despite the vast difference in sizes.

 

“ _She’ll_ be fine,” Arya noted, taking a sip.

 

Robb grinned at her and went back to the oven, grabbing out the homemade pizzas they’d all put together.

 

“Why does Sansa’s always look the best?,” Arya asked.

 

“Which one is Sansa’s?,” Robb teased.

 

The three pizzas couldn’t look any more different from one another’s. Arya and Robb came from the _dump_ approach, though Arya preferred vegetables and Robb preferred meat. She was a little bit more discerning with her choices.

 

She grinned as she grabbed three plates from the cupboard and Robb started cutting the pizzas. Sometimes they deviated from homemade pizza, but more often than not this is what they did for their weekly family dinner.

 

The tradition harkened back to her first year at Arryn Academy. She usually sat with a group of girls from her class, but once a week she and Robb would sit in the dining hall together, just the two of them. They’d facetime their family back home occasionally, but more often than not they would just catch up.

 

He’d always make sure that she was doing alright, that her classes were going okay and everyone was treating her nicely, and she’d give him the bit of coddling he craved. They took care of one another.

 

Halfway through ninth grade, their tables merged, Robb’s friends preferring the company of hers to one another, but no matter what, once a week it was just the two of them.

 

They had welcomed Arya readily when she’d come to Arryn Academy, and she still remembered crying when Robb graduated.

 

_“Dovey, I’m just going to be down the road,” Robb promised._

 

_“But what about our weekly dinners?,” Sansa asked._

 

_“What about them?,” Robb wondered. “There are places to eat on Vale’s campus you know…You think I could last more than a week without you guys?”_

 

They’d never missed a week, not since she was fourteen years old. Not even when she’d come down with the flu her sophomore year. Arya and Robb had come to the infirmary and ate saltines with her and drank apple juice.

 

They all brought their plates to the table and settled in.

 

“Do you know why Jon asked Gendry to grab a drink?,” Arya asked, looking at her.

 

She blushed and evaded, “Why are you asking me? Robb lives with him.”

 

Both of them stared at her blankly and Arya corrected, “That was a question to the general room…”

 

She took a sip of wine to avoid their glances. They hadn’t told Robb yet, hadn’ttold anyone. She knew that Jon was mostly afraid of Robb, but she wasn’t sure that they should be writing Arya off. Jon was like a big brother to Arya, and though she and Arya were close she wasn’t really sure how she’d feel about it either.

 

“Probably to talk to him about this whole Ella thing,” Robb suggested, taking a bite of his pizza.

 

“Ella thing?,” Sansa asked.

 

“Yeah, Gendry’s sister,” Robb nodded.

 

Sansa nodded taking a bite of her own pizza. She’d heard all about it from Arya. Her sister seemed to have a fascination with the girl, which she supposed wasn’t so surprising. If a girl showed up claiming to be Jon’s sister she’d certainly want to know more about her.

 

“Her name is Myrcella,” Arya corrected.

 

“Oh… right…,” Robb nodded.

 

He took a sip of his wine, avoiding their gazes just like she had done a moment before.

 

“Robb…,” she started.

 

“No…,” Arya followed.

 

“I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about,” Robb shook his head.

 

“For the love of the gods,” Arya sighed. “Don’t you think that this is complicated _enough_?”

 

“Ijustboughtherascone,” Robb said all in one breath.

 

“You did what?,” Arya asked.

 

“I…,” Robb sighed, “I bought her a scone to apologize. I didn’t know who she was the day she came to campus and I… went and _hit on her_ right after and I felt like an ass.”

 

“Wait, she was the girl we saw when I was talking to you after practice, right?,” Sansa asked. Robb nodded. “Wow, she’s stunning.”

 

“I’m painfully aware of that, thank you,” Robb groaned.

 

“Well get _unaware_ of it, Robb, I mean it,” Arya ordered.

 

“Arya, be kind,” Sansa chided.

 

“No, _no_ ,” Arya shook her head, “You have _no_ idea what this is doing to Gendry. He’s… guys he’s really lost, okay? And the last thing he needs to be doing right now is worrying about her dating one of his friends.”

 

“We’re not dating,” Robb shook his head, “We just…” She caught Robb’s eye and he looked at her hopelessly. _Oh big brother, you’re in trouble_. She smiled at him sadly and he nodded at her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about Arya, alright?”

 

Arya looked over at him and nodded, the tension rolling off of her.

 

 _Strong blood,_ Sansa thought, thinking of Gendry and his beautiful sister, _To turn their heads like this._

 

They moved on from the topic of Gendry and Myrcella and onto news from home and what they each were going to be for Halloween. Arya was going to be Wednesday Addams, Robb was going to be a crusader, and she was toying between being Pippi Longstocking and Daphne from Scooby-Doo.

 

Sooner or later, the subject turned, as it always seemed to, to her love life.

 

“So, Dovey,” Robb started, “Any boys I need to beat up?”

 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, and said honestly, “Not a one.”

 

“Good, Harry Hardyng was going to ask you out, but I made it pretty clear that was not going to happen. I assume that’s alright?,” Robb asked.

 

She nodded. She didn’t really like the idea that Robb could just _control_ that, but she wouldn’t go to bed crying about the loss of Harry Hardyng. Not when Jon Snow would be there to show her all the more interesting things she could do in bed.

 

“It’s fine, I’m sure he’s not crying over it,” she said.

 

“Not unless the sympathy card will help him get laid,” Robb scoffed.

 

“Robb, just because you’re a slut doesn’t mean all guys are,” Arya pointed out.

 

“A _what_?,” Robb asked in horror.

 

“A _SLUT_ ,” Arya repeated louder, as though he was hard of hearing.

 

“It’s 2018, you can’t call people sluts anymore Arya!,” he argued.

 

“No you can’t call _girls_ sluts. Slut shaming boys is okay,” Arya explained.

 

“Sansa?,” Robb deferred.

 

Sansa looked between her siblings and then took a sip of her wine.

 

“I’ll allow it.”

 

They both chuckled and she giggled along with them. Before too long most of the pizzas were gone as was the wine.

 

Jon and Gendry came back a bit tense, and Gendry merely waved to them before leading Arya out.

 

“All alright?,” Robb asked Jon.

 

Jon nodded, “All good.”

 

“There’s some pizza left, if you want it,” she told Jon.

 

“Any of yours?,” he asked with a grin.

 

She nodded and waved him into the kitchen. It left her and Robb in the living room alone.

 

“Robb, this Ella thing…,” she started.

 

“I know, Dovey, I know,” he shook his head, “But you don’t understand.”

 

“I understand what it is to want someone that you know you shouldn’t,” she argued. He looked at her in surprise, because she rarely raised her voice and never to him. She apologised with her eyes and went on, “I know what it is to love where you shouldn’t.”

 

“You do?,” he asked her, clearly trying to think about what she could mean. “How?” She sighed and stood up, fumbling with her hands. “Dovey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m sorry, Robby,” she whimpered, a tear falling down her cheek.

 

He stood up and crossed to her, “You don’t apologise to me, not ever. What is it? We’ll sort it out.”

 

He was so good, so loyal. Sure he slept around too much as Arya had pointed out but he treated her like a princess, like the greatest light in his world.

 

“Robb I… I love… I love Jon,” she told him, and she saw understanding dawn in his eyes, his eyes that matched hers perfectly. Tully eyes, as blue and deep as the sea. “And he loves me.”

 

“So he finally told you?”


	6. The Dancers

**Arya**

 

Arya lunged forward and touched her sword to her opponents torso. They were big, but she was fast, and despite the general etiquette observed at these matches, there was a big cheer from the sidelines.

 

She looked over and grinned at the small cluster that had assembled for her. Robb, Sansa, Gendry and Jon were all there - with signs - and didn’t care that the other team’s supporters clapped politely. Only Sansa could be relied upon for a bit of decorum, but even she’d let out a howl when she’d won the last bout.

 

She was nearing the end with this one, and she turned back to her opponent in her _en garde_ position. Her opponent did the same and they took off in the dance. She touched the sword to her opponent’s arm and the bout was won.

 

Another set of howls erupted and she turned to her opponent and took off her mask, congratulating them on a well fought game. Once she’d spoken to her coach she walked over to where her pack had assembled.

 

“Well done, little one!,” Robb high fived her.

 

“Yeah, way to stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Jon agreed.

 

Sansa and Gendry congratulated her as well, the latter placing a kiss on her lips. She pulled off her uniform, leaving her in a pair of leggings and a tank top and pulled on her Arryn Academy sweatshirt and her coat.

 

“Does the dining hall still have hot apple cider on Wednesdays?,” Sansa asked as they left the area of the athletic center where the fencing competition was taking place.

 

“Yep,” Arya told her, “That sounds good, let’s go get some.”

 

Sansa beamed and took hold of Jon’s hand. Apparently the pair had finally come clean to Robb about their relationship, and Sansa had called her this morning to tell her and apologise for not doing so sooner.

 

_“What did Robb have to say?,” Arya wondered._

 

_She had always known about Sansa and Jon, the way they felt about each other, and she suspected that they’d been together at least over the summer._

 

_“He said he’d always known how we felt about each other,” Sansa said, “And then asked ‘Why were you so afraid to tell me?’. I reminded him what an absolute barbarian he is around boys that like me and he said, ‘That’s because none of them deserve you. He just might.’ And that was that.”_

 

Arya had agreed completely with Robb. She had used to find it a bit weird, the way Jon couldn’t stop staring at Sansa or the way her confident older sister would become shy in his presence. In her younger days, she was afraid it meant she might lose Jon entirely. He was as much a brother to her as Robb and the idea of losing him was too painful to bear.

 

He looked over at her now though and grinned, mussing her hair, and pulled her under his arm, his other going around Sansa.

 

Sansa smiled at her from her side and Arya couldn’t help but smile back. She wasn’t losing anyone.

 

They all turned to the right and she looked where they were heading and stopped short.

 

“Let’s um, go out the back way,” she suggested.

 

“But this way is quicker,” Sansa pointed out.

 

“Yeah you’d think a _senior_ would know that,” Robb teased.

 

None of them listened to her and so they all continued on in their original direction. She wasn’t entirely sure what she could say now to force them to walk the other way, so she tried for distraction.

 

“Hey so um-,” she started, but everything seemed to fall out of her head at once.

 

Gendry turned to look at her, but his eyes caught on something behind her.

 

“Is that…?,” he wondered, peering into the ballet studio.

 

“ _Seven Hells she’s a fucking ballerina_ ,” Robb cursed under his breath and she turned to glare at him.

 

She removed herself from Jon’s arm and crossed to Gendry, taking hold of his hand.

 

He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Myrcella. She was in the studio on her own and she could hear the music coming from it. It was a deep, haunting, modern melody and her dance was equally so, the elegant planes of her body turning this way and that, her slender limbs the picture of grace.

 

“Robb how about we take a little walk?,” Jon suggested.

 

“Good idea,” Robb’s strangled voice agreed.

 

Sansa followed them out and it left just her and Gendry.

 

“We can go,” she assured him.

 

“Let’s wait just a minute,” he said. She turned back and Myrcella leapt into the air, landing on point and turning in a circle. “She’s good…isn’t she?”

 

Arya didn’t know the first thing about ballet, but you didn’t need to understand it to know that Myrcella was talented.

 

“Yeah baby,” she agreed, “I think she is.”

 

They stood and watched her until the dance ended. She went over and grabbed her water bottle and took a sip, checking her phone.

 

“We could go talk to her, she’s nice, she really is,” Arya told him.

 

_After all she could have given me a way harder time for not telling her who I was._

 

She thought back to seeing Myrcella in the library on Monday. She’d waved to her and Myrcella had come over, plopping her books down at her table. The group of girls she normally sat at meals with were there but she didn’t cast them another glance as she pulled out her laptop.

 

_“Hey,” Arya whispered._

 

_“Hi,” Myrcella whispered back._

 

 _They both turned to their books and started working and after a little while a note was pushed in front of her. Arya opened it and read_ : You could have told me.

 

 _Arya hadn’t had to ask her what she meant so she’d only written back:_ I know, I’m sorry.

 

 _Myrcella had handed her the note back quickly_ : Thank you, for loving him.

 

And that had been that. They’d studied together for the rest of the afternoon and had walked to the dining hall. They’d dispersed when it came time to eat their dinners with a wave and a nod.

 

“Okay,” Gendry said.

 

“Okay?,” she asked in wonder.

 

He nodded at her, gripping her hand, and she smiled.

 

“Do you want to go on your own?,” she offered.

 

He shook his head, which she knew he would, but she wanted to offer anyway.

 

She opened the door, leading the way.

 

“Myrcella?,” she called.

 

Myrcella turned and gave her a small smile, “Hey Stark.”

 

Arya pulled Gendry forward and Myrcella’s smile turned into one of disbelief and awe and even a bit of reverence.

 

“Hi,” she said softly.

 

“Hi,” Gendry said gruffly. She squeezed his hand and he added, “You’re um, really good.”

 

“Thank you,” Myrcella said and then teased slightly, “Are you a ballet connoisseur?”

 

Gendry chuckled and shook his head, “Nope, I’m just blowing smoke up your ass.”

 

The pair stood smiling at each other, like they couldn’t really believe that the other was standing there, and it seemed entirely possible that neither of them was going to say anything for a very long time.

 

“We’re all heading to the dining hall for hot apple cider, want to come?,” she offered.

 

Myrcella’s grin was the only answer they needed.

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

In all his life, he had never seen his best friend so turned around because of a girl.

 

In his opinion, it was about time. Robb was too good to be living more or less like Theon, chasing after a different girl every night. He’d thought the Tyrell girl might be the one to change his ways, but she seemed to have no desire to do so.

 

Even still, if Jon could have chosen, it would have been anyone other than Myrcella Baratheon.

 

But Jon couldn’t choose. No one could, not even Robb.

 

“Robb you’ve got to put a pin in this,” Sansa warned him. “It’s too soon, it’s too much.”

 

“It’s not that easy, Dovey,” Robb agreed. He shook his head and chuckled, “Do you think I would feel this way if I could help it? Could you have helped it?”

 

Jon looked over at Sansa. She was the only girl that had ever turned him around. She could twist him easier than anyone and straighten him back up without a word. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen and the sweetest one he’d ever known and there wasn’t enough honor in the world that could keep him away from her.

 

Robb had been so cool about it. He hadn’t even given him a hard time for hiding it from him. He’d just clapped him on the back as Jon had gone to walk Sansa back to her dorm room and said, _I know that you’re worthy of her, and you know what I’ll do to you if you ever prove me wrong._ And that was that.

 

It felt hypocritical for them now to be lecturing him against the exact same thing that they’d done. _But we were in love_.

 

Robb’s eyes moistened slightly and Jon turned around to find Arya walking along with Gendry and Myrcella. He looked back at Robb who locked his jaw and looked away and then Jon looked back at them.

 

 _She is a beauty, I’ll give him that_.

 

“Hey guys,” Gendry said with a sheepish grin, “This is Myrcella.”

 

It was Sansa who saved the day, as always with her manners. She stepped forward and offered her hand to Myrcella.

 

“Hi Myrcella, I’m Sansa, I’m Arya’s older sister,” she said sweetly, “How are you liking Arryn Academy? You’re so brave to transfer your senior year.”

 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Sansa,” Myrcella said sweetly back, “I really like it here, and I think my academic advisor used the term _foolish_ but I’ll take brave.”

 

Jon chuckled and stepped forward as well, “I’m Jon.”

 

She greeted him warmly and they all started walking towards each other.

 

“This is Robb, by the way,” Gendry told her, gesturing to the mute at his side.

 

“I know,” Myrcella smiled, “We met briefly.”

 

“Oh,” Gendry nodded.

 

“Yeah it was nothing,” Robb commented.

 

 _Idiot_.

 

Jon avoided Myrcella’s gaze, so he wasn’t sure if she showed any signs of hurt from that statement.

 

“So you all play rugby?,” she asked, her tone light.

 

“Yep, Gendry here is the star, we’re just back up,” Jon said and Gendry chuckled, shaking his head.

 

Myrcella smiled at him and nodded, “Is it as bloody as they say?”

 

“Worse!,” Sansa chimed in, “They all look like they’ve just come from battle afterwards, I swear I should by stock in rubbing alcohol.”

 

Myrcella giggled and Arya offered, “They have a game on Friday. You should come watch with me.”

 

“You don’t have to!,” Gendry said quickly with a blush, “But you could. If you wanted. You don’t faint at the sight of blood do you?”

 

Myrcella shook her head, “I’m made of sterner stuff than that.”

 

She didn’t look like she was made of anything stern. In truth, she looked like little birds came and helped her dress in the morning. Even still, he believed her.

 

He remembered his first impression of her, when she’d come to the rugby field to meet Gendry - undaunted. She’d shown only a mild wariness at the pack of animals in front of her, which proved her to be intelligent, not weak, given that Robb was not the only one who couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

 

They got to the dining room and he let Arya lead Gendry and Myrcella in. Gendry was like a bobblehead in between the two girls, who had clearly taken to one another.

 

Sansa turned to look at him, “Do you want me to grab you one?”

 

“That’d be great thanks and one of those -“

 

“Oatmeal cookies,” Sansa nodded, “I know.”

 

Of course she knew. She knew him better than anyone and now he didn’t have to hide how much that meant to him. He had his own dauntless girl who had overcome her fears of upsetting her beloved big brother because of _him_ , and what they meant to one another.

 

“Hey Dovey?,” he asked as she was walking up the steps.

 

She turned around and the wind caught in her auburn hair. Sometimes he was afraid she’d actually stop his heart.

 

“I love you,” he said, because he couldn’t help himself.

 

A delightful blush spread on her cheeks and she glanced nervously at Robb before grinning.

 

“Love you more,” she promised and then disappeared inside.

 

“I don’t want a lecture,” Robb told him, once they were left alone outside.

 

“You’re not going to get one,” he assured him.

 

He’d seen the way Robb had looked at Myrcella. Lecturing him was a waste of breath.

 

“It’s just because she’s off limits,” Robb reasoned, “That’s all it is.”

 

 _Liar_.

 

“You’re probably right,” Jon lied back.


	7. Night gathers

**Robb**

 

Robb took a big gulp of fresh, mountain air. He'd never understood why some of the guys got slower in the cold, why their breath caught or their hands chapped. He always felt more alert in this weather, and it always came in handy when they were playing southern schools. 

 

Storm's End was a worthy opponent, and home field advantage made a big difference. He remembered the first time they'd played them his freshman year, they'd gone down South, he remembered the sun beating down on him, sweat stinging his eyes. Now _that_ was difficult. 

 

He wondered if the other guys were bolstered by their cheering section the way he was. He was used to a crowd, even their practices had a loyal following, but the stands were packed today. That didn't matter. It was only one group that he cared about, the three beautiful girls huddled together in the front row, sipping hot chocolate. 

 

One was brown haired, one was auburn haired, and one was golden haired. They were like something out of a fairy tale, or at the very least a shampoo commercial. 

 

Arya and Sansa were at all of their games, coming to support him and the guys. Both of them loved the sport too - even Sansa, who lamented about them all being barbarians, secretly enjoyed when it got especially gruesome - as long as they came out on top and none of them ended up in the emergency room. They often shouted helpful encouragements, having grown up watching the games, and Mormont had called the girls in a time or two to give a rousing pep talk. 

 

Ella, though, was a new addition. As she'd promised, she was not faint of heart, she hadn't even blanched when a guy was escorted off the field, his elbow going in a direction that it was not meant to. She'd been screaming her head off along with Arya and Sansa - particularly when Gendry had made an incredible tackle. 

 

She looked so beautiful in her light blue wool coat, wearing a black turtleneck and black jeans and boots underneath. She was in between Sansa and Arya who were _obsessed_ with her (their word) and he'd seen a few of the guys from Storm's End lingering near them when they were off the field.

 

He'd been having a good game, and a couple of the regular girls had been shouting their usual chants for him, but so far, he'd only merited a polite _woop_ from Ella. She'd even screamed for Jon. 

 

Not that he was jealous, of course. It just seemed rather undemocratic of her.

 

He glanced over from his spot on the field and saw that they'd all gotten up from their seats. Arya and Sansa were talking to a few of Sansa's friends and Ella was standing on the sidelines with  _Harry Hardyng_ , who was currently gesturing towards the field, rambling probably, as Ella nodded along. 

 

"Dude, eyes on the field," Jon shouted at him as he ran by.

 

Robb tore his gaze away and smirked as he saw a perfect opportunity barreling down the field. The Storm's End player holding the ball was near the part of the field where they were standing by and he sprinted over there. Theon was on his way already but fell back when he saw him. 

 

He bent and hit the guy with his shoulder, knocking him to the ground, completely accidentally right in front of Ella and Harry fucking Hardying. 

 

He got off of the other player and helped him up. Harry had backed away but Ella stood her ground, her obnoxiously lovely face showing only the faintest signs of amusement. 

 

"Nice tackle," she said with a smirk.

 

"Nice legs," he returned with one of his own.

 

Her perfect bow lips parted slightly in surprise and he couldn't help but grin at her before jogging back to the center of the field. 

 

The game ended quickly after that. Mormont was his typical gruff manner as he gave them his post-game talk but Robb could tell he was pleased with them and he and the guys grabbed their stuff and walked over to the girls.

 

"Our conquering heroes!," Sansa cried dramatically as they walked over, she started closing the distance between her and Jon. 

 

"I'm all bloody," Jon warned her, "And dirty."

 

"Catch me I'm _swooning_ ," Sansa cooed and Jon rushed forward and dipped her back in a kiss. 

 

Arya rolled her eyes but jumped into Gendry's arms and kissed him as well.

 

When they broke apart, Ella stepped forward and planted a kiss on Gendry's cheek. 

 

"Great game!," she said excitedly. 

 

“Thanks… and uh, thanks for coming," he said sheepishly, his whole face red from the attention. 

 

"It was _just_ bloody enough for my taste," she teased.

 

"Isn't anyone going to introduce me?," Theon wondered.

 

"No," he, Jon, Gendry, Arya, and Sansa all said at once.

 

Ella giggled, "You must be Theon."

 

"So I see my reputation proceeds me, as does yours, beautiful," Theon told her, sauntering up to her like a fucking peacock.

 

"It does," she nodded, then grinned slyly, "But I wouldn't be to happy about that." She turned to Gendry then and said, "Would you maybe want to grab a coffee or something before I head back to campus?"

 

"What? No!," Arya interjected, "You have to come out with us."

 

_No. No. No...yes please._

 

"I didn't get a pass for an overnight off campus," Ella explained, "Maybe next weekend?"

 

"Hold my hot chocolate," Sansa said to Jon.

 

"The lesser known cousin of  _hold my beer_ ," Arya explained and Robb chuckled.

 

Sansa took out her cell phone and started dialing and whispered something in Ella's ear. Ella whispered back and Sansa pressed the phone to her ear and nodded.

 

"Hi this is Cersei Lannister, yes thank you, I'm calling on behalf of my daughter Myrcella Baratheon... of course well you see a very _very_ dear family friend has decided to whisk her away to their chalet for a bit of early skiing - yes Myrcella simply _can't_ miss the first powder of the year, so she will not be returning to her dorm this evening. Could you kindly pass that along? Oh thank you, you're a dear," Sansa clicked off triumphantly and turned to Ella, "All set, you just need to be back by five tomorrow."

 

"Can I trade my mother for you? You're _so_ much nicer," Ella explained. 

 

"That was  _scary_  to watch," Jon told her.

 

Sansa smiled and took her hot chocolate back, clearly very satisfied with herself. 

 

"So that's settled," Arya nodded, "So _I_ say, the three of _us_ ," she said, gesturing to her, Sansa and Ella, "Go back to Sansa's and get ready and meet the four of _you_ at the boy's apartment for pizza and then we drink like the world is ending."

 

That seemed like a very reasonable plan to everyone, so they all broke apart. Gendry walked off with the girls towards the dorms and he, Jon and Theon walked back to their apartment. 

 

It was completely unsurprising that Theon spent the majority of the time talking about what a beauty Ella was, though that was definitely not the term he used and he painted a few pictures that were going to haunt Robb until the end of his days. 

 

It wasn't that he hadn't _pictured_ her in a few unmentionable situations as well, it was just that it was so rarely what he thought of when he thought of her. Which lately, seemed to be all of the time. 

 

Instead he thought about running her golden hair through his fingers and the way it felt when their fingers brushed when she broke off a piece of scone and the flush of excitement on her cheeks when Gendry said something kind to her. It was infuriating. He would give anything to just think about the other stuff, but he couldn't. 

 

They all went back and showered. He pulled on jeans and a dark green sweater and headed out into the living room where Jon was already there in his traditional black. 

 

He was looking at his phone and grinning. 

 

"What's up?," Robb wondered. 

 

Jon had been smiling a lot more since he and Sansa got together, it was one of the reasons that he knew something was up. But the unadulterated joy that ha been radiating from him since they’d come clean on Tuesday night was like nothing he’d ever seen from his broody best friend. 

 

 _Love really can change a man's nature_.

 

"The girls have already started," Jon told him, showing him a video Sansa had sent him of a dance party that had broken out in Sansa's dorm room. 

 

"I need a drink," he groaned, trying to ignore the sight of Ella shaking her hips to the Spice Girls, "Whiskey?"

 

"Definitely," Jon nodded. 

 

He went and poured them both glasses and came back to sit on the couch. They started talking about where they should go that night, there were a few parties going on that he knew of and they'd have to stay away from the bars since Ella and Arya weren't old enough. 

 

Gendry came in after a bit holding a forty of whiskey and a bottle of gin. 

 

"Dude have you been seeing this?," he asked Jon as he set the bottles down on their bar. He tossed Jon his phone and Jon chuckled but Gendry shook his head, ”They are going to be _mangled_ by the time they get here."

 

"It's only been forty five minutes," Robb reasoned, "How bad can it be?"

 

"Bad," Gendry and Jon said in unison. 

 

Gendry poured himself a drink and came to sit in one of the chairs, clinking his glass against each of theirs.

 

"It'll be fine," Jon assured him, "Sansa usually reins Arya in after a couple of shots, and we'll get some pizza into them as soon as they get there. We should order now, by the way, they are heading over.”

 

Robb pulled out his phone to do just that, opening his app and ordering a few large pizzas and some salads so that he didn’t get a lecture from Sansa.

 

"I just...," Gendry started and then shook his head. They both looked at him expectantly and he sighed, "I just don't want Ella trying to keep up with Arya. I love the girl but she is a freak of nature and Ella weighs like three and a half pounds."

 

Robb and Jon smirked at each other. 

 

"And now your watch begins," Jon mused, raising his glass towards Gendry before taking a sip.

 

"What are you talking about?," Gendry wondered. 

 

Robb took pity on him, because he was sure it could be overwhelming. He couldn't remember not being an older brother, and the idea of all of his feelings about his younger siblings hitting him at once made him dizzy.

 

"That knot you feel in your stomach at the thought of her drinking too much and getting sick, or falling down, or worse? It's never going to go away," he told him as gently as he could. Gendry looked at him in confusion and he sighed, "She's your little sister, man,… it's just part of the deal."

 

"No it's... it's not... I don't even...," Gendry shook his head. He looked at them in defeat and asked, "Well what if she needs help with her homework?"

 

"You send her to Sansa," Robb told him. 

 

Sansa was the smartest of all of them, and always happy to help, though he resisted pointing out to Gendry that Ella was at the most elite private school in the country and was eighteen and could probably figure out her calculus homework all on her own.

 

"Okay but what if she gets sick?," he asked. 

 

"You take her to the hospital...," Jon suggested, obviously taking great pains not to add _you fucking moron_.

 

Gendry nodded, seeing the reason in that at least. 

 

“Well what if some _fuckboy_ hurts her?," Gendry asked after a minute.

 

Jon glanced warily at him but Robb didn't hesitate.

 

"Then you make him regret the day he was born," he told him honestly. 

 

Gendry knocked back his whiskey and sighed, "Now I know why you two are such pyschos about Arya and Sansa,” he shook his head and let out a harsh chuckle, "Why couldn't she be _ugly_?"

 

It was at that moment that the three beautiful girls in question walked through the door giggling, like they had no idea how hard they made their lives. 

 

"Helloooo gentlemen," Sansa cooed at all of them.

 

They took off their coats and Arya grabbed Ella's to hang up in their hall closet. They had all changed and done their hair and make-up. Sansa was wearing a swingy black dress but Arya was wearing leather leggings and a halter top, and though he usually might lament over that, he didn’t have the energy right now, not when Ella looked like _that_. 

 

Sansa had clearly gotten to her, she’d always loved giving Arya makeovers, and the two girls had spent many a night at Arryn Academy in one of their dorm rooms, listening to music and trying to follow crazy make up tutorials. He had joined them a few times, not for the make up, obviously, but just to hang out.

 

She’d piled her golden hair on top of her head, revealing her long elegant neck with the help of a sleeveless top in the same green as his sweater, with black beading on it. She’d lined her eyes in kohl and put mascara on her lashes, making them seem seem impossibly thick and long. Her eyes were electric and she really did have the nicest legs he’d ever seen and she looked so happy and gorgeous that it kind of made him want to jump out the window.

 

_Seriously, why couldn't she be ugly?_

 

 

**Myrcella**

 

“Oooh can you wiggle your ears?,” she asked.

 

Gendry’s brow furrowed, “Nope.”

 

They’d been doing the sibling test for the past half hour, seeing what overlaps they had in their tastes and abilities.

 

It was nearly scary how many similarities they had. They both loved lavender ice cream and preferred skiing to snowboarding but wakeboarding to waterskiing. They both preferred horror movies to thrillers could curl their tongues, they weren’t allergic to anything but both had an abhorrence for tropical fruit.

 

Most of all, they both loved Arya Stark. Who was now frowning.

 

“Can you?,” Arya wondered despondently.

 

She was very committed to the sibling test.

 

The three of them were sitting on a couch at the rugby house, which was hosting the second party they’d been to that evening. The pre-drink at the boys’ apartment had been its own event, but the party at Sigma Chi had been deemed _sub-par_ by Arya and they’d all been happy to follow her. She, though a high school student, was considered a connoisseur of Vale University’s party scene.

 

“Yes! Here watch,” Ella ordered and started wiggling her ears.

 

Arya’s smile came back immediately and Gendry covered his mouth to hide his grin.

 

“Thank the gods, you can’t do it either!,” Arya exulted.

 

“I’m doing it right now,” Ella protested.

 

“Babes you’re just wiggling your eyebrows,” Arya told her carefully, like she knew she would be shattering her world.

 

“What? No?,” Ella denied, “Here, what about now?”

 

She wiggled her ears again.

 

“Now you’re just blinking a lot,” Gendry chimed in.

 

_World. Shattered._

 

“On the bright side, it’s another thing you guys have in common…,” Arya pointed out sweetly.

 

She looked over at Gendry and grinned, “Fine, we are _equally_ untalented.”

 

Gendry grinned back at her and Arya demanded, “Wait, get closer and smile.”

 

“Arya,” Gendry groaned.

 

“FAMILY PHOTOS ARE REQUIRED AT ALL IMPORTANT EVENTS,” she practically shouted at him.

 

“This is a party at the rugby house,” Gendry pointed out calmly, as though he was very used to her wrath.

 

“It’s Ella’s _first_ college party and the _first_ time you are drinking together and _I_ want to commemorate your beautiful fucking faces in a photo, do you have a problem with that, Waters?,” Arya asked him.

 

“C’mere,” Gendry surrendered.

 

She sat up on her knees and fell against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He wrapped one around her back and they pressed their cheeks to one another’s and smiled as Arya took a few photos.

 

She turned the phone towards them to look. There wasn’t a lick of family resemblance between the two of them, in truth, they oddly looked like younger versions of her parents. Gendry was a dead ringer for her father and she’d always been told she was Cersei Lannister incarnate - _but with a soul_ , Uncle Tyrion always added.

 

Her parents had never looked that happy together though.

 

She and Gendry released each other and chose the one she was allowed to post.

 

“Ella! Arya! Come dance!,” they heard from across the room.

 

She hopped off the couch and held out her hand to Arya, “My sweet?”

 

Arya placed her hand in hers and they waved to Gendry. She’d learned already that Gendry did _not_ dance, which seemed like a very silly and arbitrary rule to her but she wasn’t going to push it.

 

She and Arya raised their hands, still clasped, over their heads as they made their way through the party to Sansa.

 

“Have you been _bonding_?,” Sansa cooed at her.

 

The eldest Stark sister seemed to say everything in a half coo, as though the very world itself was smiling at her, and it made you feel warm inside when it was directed at you. She was the most beautiful girl that Ella had ever seen and it was no surprise that her gorgeous boyfriend Jon was an absolute fool for her.

 

“THEY ARE SO CUTE!,” Arya wiggled, already taking up the beat.

 

Ella had had a bit to drink, they all had and she grabbed Sansa’s hand too. Sansa and Arya seemed to sense the importance of whatever was coming next and the clasped hands, clearly not caring that the three of them looked like a coven of witches about to sacrifice a virgin.

 

“I have a confession to make,” she warned them. They nodded solemnly and she couldn’t help but squeal, “I _love_ him! Is that crazy?”

 

“He’s your brother,” Arya pointed out with a grin.

 

Sansa rolled her eyes and said, “No, of course it isn’t crazy. Sometimes you just _know_ and Gendry is the type that you just know about. He’s got goodness in his _bones_ , just like you. And if it makes you feel any better, apparently he’s very concerned about you taking ill?”

 

“Ill?,” Ella asked in confusion.

 

Sansa giggled and said, “He was asking Jon and Robb all these questions about how to look out for you. Don’t tell anyone I told you though, I think I’m breaking the girlfriend rule right now.”

 

Her insides warmed all over again. _When’s the last time someone wanted to look out for me?_

 

She squeezed their hands and then they squeezed them back.

 

“Okay just one more confession,” she gushed, because now she couldn’t stop. It was like the whole world was smiling at her too, “I’m so glad he brought me to you guys too.”

 

Sansa let out some kind of inhuman noise and then she was being smothered between the two of them in a group hug.

 

“We’re never giving you back,” Arya told her.

 

“Does that mean I can stop sitting with those _awful_ girls from my dorm at dinner?,” she wondered.

 

“Yes! Yes I promise, I should have saved you day one,” Arya nodded.

 

They all grinned at one another and separated, though they stayed close, dancing to the beat. It was some beachy pop song that was totally out of place with the falling leaves outside but it didn’t matter because it was warm inside and she felt the rhythm guiding her body as she closed her eyes.

 

When Theon pulled Arya away to play beer pong, she and Sansa went into the kitchen to grab another drink.

 

“ _Ella heyy,”_ Harry Hardyng said to her from where he was perched on the counter blowing smoke rings.

 

“SANS! Get over here!,” they heard Jon yell.

 

“Are you alright?,” Sansa asked her.

 

“I’m fine, I’ll make a drink and come back in,” she nodded.

 

Harry Hardyng didn’t frighten her.

 

Sansa spared a meaningful glance at Harry and then sauntered out of the kitchen. Ella gave him a throwaway smile and went to make herself another gin and tonic. She’d learned that evening she had a liking for them after Gendry had offered to make her one when she’d arrived at the boys’ apartment.

 

“So, _Ella_ ,” Harry said, “You come here often?”

 

She smirked, “Did you really just ask that?”

 

He chuckled lazily, as though testing it out, “S’pose I did. Question stands, pretty girl.”

 

She leaned her hip against the counter and took a sip of her drink, “No, I do not frequent Vale University’s rugby house.”

 

He hopped off the counter and walked by her a little too close. She wrinkled her nose, he reeked of weed. He poured himself a drink of something and came back to face her.

 

“Too bad, think you will now?,” he grinned down at her and said, “I wouldn’t mind seeing this face more.”

 

It was kind of a sweet thing to say, though she got the sense that he said it all the time. He was arguably gorgeous, but it was a dull, lazy kind of handsome, nothing like -

 

“Oi, Hardyng, fuck off,” she heard a deep Northern voice growl from behind her.

 

Despite that Harry’s eyes had been dead a moment ago, they flashed with anger now.

 

“You can’t control who every pretty girl talks to Stark, and this one isn’t your sister,” Harry practically growled.

 

“No she’s not,” Robb allowed, “Her brother _is_ in the next room if you’d like me to grab him, not sure you’d like it if I did though. So why don’t you just _fuck off_?”

 

Harry chuckled, “It’s pretty impressive that you think you can act all high and mighty with half the shit you do, shoulda seen the mess I had to clean up with poor Roslin Frey.”

 

“Watch it,” Robb warned.

 

“Or what?,” Harry challenged.

 

Ella fought the urge to roll her eyes and left her place at the counter, “Excuse me.”

 

“Where are you going?,” Robb asked her.

 

“I’m clearly not needed for this conversation,” she pointed out, crossing her arms. Her tone straightened him up a bit so she couldn’t help but add, “And the next time you feel like unleashing your masculinity - find someone else to use as an excuse… As you were, gentlemen.”

 

With that she walked away, craving the Stark sisters and their easy banter. She’d already started walking in the opposite direction though and she wasn’t going to admit to that so she kept walking, figuring she’d take the long way around.

 

“Ella, Ella wait up!,” she heard Robb calling. She didn’t turn around until she realised that she’d reached a dead end. “What was that?”

 

“Harry’s got a point, Robb,” she sighed, “You’re not my brother. You don’t get to dictate who speaks to me. And for that matter, _neither does Gendry_.”

 

“No I mean, what was that with you and Hardyng?,” he asked her.

 

“A conversation,” she said and when he had the audacity to look annoyed at her she got annoyed right back, “Or, maybe I should borrow a phrase from you, _it was nothing_.”

 

She went to move by him, to go back to the party. He stopped her with a warm hand on her forearm, pulling her back to him gently.

 

Her whole body was on fire just from that one touch and she found it hard to look him in the eye. She focused instead on the scruff littering his square jaw and stupidly on the pout of his perfect lips.

 

“I know I hurt you by saying that,” he said softly.

 

She wasn’t sure how she had heard him over the noise of the party, but she did. She wasn’t sure that she was hearing anything else other than him and the thudding of her stubborn heart.

 

“You didn’t hurt me,” she lied, she held her head high and forced lightness into her tone when she said, “You confused me, which is far harder to forgive.”

 

“Don’t do that,” he chided, “Don’t pretend like it doesn’t matter.”

 

“I’m not the one who did that,” she pointed out.

 

“You’re right and I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

 

She stopped at that, she had expected to spar more. It was so rare that people apologised without an explanation, or an excuse, without trying to transfer the blame.

 

“Why did you?,” she found herself asking.

 

“Because everyone’s telling me I have to stay away from you.”

 

“Everyone except the person you should have been speaking to about it,” she reasoned. He raised his eyebrows at her and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him, “ _Me._ ”

 

He chuckled and nodded, as though he hadn’t really thought of that, but he turned serious quickly and stepped closer to her. It was only then that she realised he hadn’t let go of her arm. And there it was once again, that delicious burn.

 

“The truth is, Ella,” he said quietly, “It’s easier - if I don’t know how you feel about it.”

 

She suddenly realised how alone they were and how dim the hallway was and how very close he was standing to her.

 

The air between them got very hot and she wasn’t entirely sure how it happened but his other hand rose to her other arm and he ran his knuckles down it softly.

 

She shivered but somehow found the courage to look up at him. Though the hallway was poorly lit she could see that his eyes were shining and there was a muscle in his left cheek that seemed strained.

 

“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?,” he asked her.

 

“No,” she said honestly, “I don’t think I will.”

 

She stepped away from him though, and he released her instantly, taking a step back as well. She forced her heart rate to return to normal and he seemed to be doing the same thing.

 

“The thing is Robb,” she started, wondering if she should lie, but chose honesty instead, “I think you’re just about the most marvellous boy I’ve ever met, but I’m not here for _you_. I don’t say that to be cruel, or to play games, I’m just not. I came here, I came to Arryn Academy, for him. For Gendry - and I’m going to be around as much as he’ll let me be. And if that makes your life difficult then I’m sorry but it won’t change anything.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” he shook his head, “I knew that, I _know_ that. I want that for him, I want you for him - every guy should have the gift of a little sister, one just like you - beautiful and sweet, someone to worry about - and I want that for you… And honestly I want it for me too.”

 

“But I thought -“

 

“The way I see it, the only thing worse than you being around all the time is you _not_ being around all the time,” he sighed, and held up his hands in surrender, giving her that sheepish grin, “If I had a scone I’d offer it to you as a peace offering, but how about I get you a fresh drink instead? You left yours on the counter, and it was quite frankly pretty impressive that you didn’t throw it in my face…”

 

She giggled and nodded, “I thought about it, but that’s a terrible waste of gin.”

 

He chuckled and they started walking back towards the kitchen.

 

“Just promise me you’re not going to date Harry fucking Hardyng,” he pleaded.

 

“Oh I don’t know… I _guess_ I could leave him to _poor Roslin Frey_ ,” she teased.

 

He turned to her with a grin and pointed at her, “Okay in my defence -“

 

“Get me that drink,” she interrupted, “Something tells me I’m going to need it for this story.”

 

He chuckled and made her a drink, shaking his head, “You really are a cheeky little shit, Baratheon.”

 

Once he’d handed it to her they walked into the room and found their friends all around the beer pong table. A few of them looked warily at them, or at Robb more honestly.

 

“Where’ve you guys been?,” Gendry asked.

 

She glanced at Robb, wondering if he’d put his money where his mouth was.

 

“We’ve been having a little talk,” Robb said honestly, but then he threw his arm around her shoulders and went on, “This one fancies herself in love with Harry Hardyng so I had to have a little intervention.”

 

“Oh Ella no!,” Sansa cried.

 

“Absolutely not,” Gendry shook his head.

 

“Even _I’m_ a better option than Hardyng,” Theon offered.

 

She glared up at Robb, “Who’s the cheeky little shit now?”

 

He grinned down at her and crossed his eyes so she elbowed him away.

 

“What do you say Waters?,” she walked over to Gendry, “Think we can kick the Starks’ asses in beer pong?”

 

“Not if Sansa plays,” Gendry shook his head, “Girl’s got an arm like a fucking laser. Robb you play, you’re terrible.”

 

“Watch it, baby,” Arya warned, crossing over to the other end of the table and pushing Robb towards it.

 

“Have you ever played before?,” Gendry asked in a low voice.

 

“No,” she whispered, “But don’t tell them that.”

 

He smirked and nodded, “Just watch me, little one.”

 

He threw the ball and it landed in the front cup. She threw hers as well and it followed it in.

 

Jon let out a guffaw and Sansa wooped and Robb chuckled, taking three cups away and rolling their balls back.

 

Gendry shot again, and made it again, and she aimed for the same cup and once again made it. Robb and Arya took away the rest of the cups and started drinking.

 

“That’s my girl!,” Gendry shouted and picked her up, swinging her around, “Alright, whose next? Whose gonna _dare_ take me and my little sister on?”

 

She knew it was just a stupid game, that they’d all been drinking, that everyone loved to win. It didn’t matter though.

 

She hadn’t been lying to Robb, Gendry was the reason she was here. And she hadn’t lied to him either, the day they’d met, she knew what it was to be alone. But here and now, with his arm slung loosely over her shoulders, surrounded by his friends, now hers, loneliness felt very far away.

 

She glanced at Robb and found him already looking at her. He smiled at her but there was something else in his eyes. It was something deep and real and dangerous so she turned away from him.

 

She looked up at Gendry and his brow furrowed in concern and he shucked her chin, the way their father used to.

 

_It’s all going to be alright, he’s here to look after me._


	8. Harvest Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> k so this is a super long one because I wanted all the PoVs

**Gendry**

 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed.

 

“It’s alright,” Ella said with a bright smile as they stood in line at the campus coffee shop. “I’ve got to work on my early decision application anyway.”

 

They were meant to do something just the two of them all day. They’d be heading out with their friends for Halloween later that night, but today was supposed to be just them. He’d been looking forward to it all week, and then yesterday he’d been assigned a project due Monday.

 

He’d called that morning to cancel on her and she’d simply said _Can I study with you?_

 

He shouldn’t have been surprised. She had been so sweet and understanding since they’d first met. She never spoke about her family unless he asked her and she didn’t seem to mind that he wanted to take things slow with her. They hadn’t spent much time just on their own, the buffer of the group helped him, even though more often than not he ended up spending most of his time with her, or her and Arya who had grown so close and enjoyed ganging up on him.

 

It had been his idea, to spend the day together. He was ready, and he knew he’d been ready for some time, he just hadn’t really been sure how to bring it up. He hadn’t been this awkward starting things with _Arya_ and she was his girlfriend, but there was something unnerving about Ella. She was so perfectly herself that it made lesser beings like him tremble.

 

Even still, his little sister was like sunshine.

 

“Drumroll please….,” he said, drumming on the counter, “Where’s it going to be?”

 

She looked up at him, a slight blush on her cheeks and a bit of worry in her eyes. His heart sank, he didn’t want to lose her when he’d just gotten her. He knew there were a few places she’d been considering, really the top three schools in the country, the other two of which were much further south.

 

“Vale… if that’s… is that okay?,” she wondered.

 

The relief was instantaneous. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was a shoo-in, she had perfect grades and was an internationally ranked equestrian and one of, according to the program at Arryn Academy’s Fall Showcase, Westeros’ premier ballerinas. There was no way she wouldn’t get into Vale, especially because Sansa, who gave campus tours, had offered the other day to get her an interview with the Dean of Admissions.

 

He grinned and nodded and she beamed up at him.

 

They got up to the front of the line and the male barista gawked at her.

 

“H-hey, what can I get you?,” he asked her, a dopey smile on his face.

 

“Can I please have a vanilla latte and a pumpkin muffin and _he_ will have…,” Ella said, looking up at him and narrowing her eyes. He narrowed his back at her and she grinned, “He’ll have a boring black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin.”

 

“Of course,” the barista said. Ella went to pull out her wallet but before Gendry could wave her off the barista did, “Don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”

 

Ella blushed and thanked him and Gendry fought the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“Thanks man,” Gendry said gruffly, going to push Ella forward to stand to wait for their drinks.

 

The barista looked at him though and said, “Yours will be $3.20.”

 

He looked at Ella who covered her mouth to hide her giggle, but a snort escaped anyway. The barista looked at him, all but holding out his hand for the money and Gendry sighed, grabbing his wallet and handing the cash to him.

 

They waited for their coffees and pastries and then left the coffee shop to head towards the library.

 

“Please tell me you are not doing that girl thing of wearing lingerie with cat ears tonight?,” he asked her.

 

He had enough issues keeping guys away from her when she was wearing a maroon turtleneck, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it if she wore some revealing costume. For one thing, he really didn’t want to see his little sister in something like that, and for another he wasn’t sure he had the strength or patience to keep guys away from her.

 

She giggled and shook her head, “Ew _no_. I’m going as Twiggy. What about you?”

 

“A blacksmith,” he told her. Ella threw her head back and laughed. “ _What_?”

 

“You are totally doing that _boy_ thing of being something rugged and manly just so you can have your shirt off and be all messy,” she accused.

 

“I - I am not…,” he protested.

 

“Really, so you are wearing a shirt?,” she challenged.

 

“Well uh… no but the costume didn’t come with one,” he reasoned.

 

She chuckled and hooked her arm through his, leaning her cheek against his upper arm.

 

He wished he had known her when she was a little girl, wished that she had always been there to tease him and that he had always been there to look out for her.

 

He always felt an odd sense of pride, walking with her like this. He knew she had two other brothers, but from what little he’d heard, the older one was a right prick and the younger was shy and soft. One was incapable of looking after her and the other seemed to have no interest in it. Gendry was neither incapable nor indifferent.

 

“Hey,” she said and he looked down at her. “Will you read my application essay when I’m done with it?”

 

“Yeah of course, what prompt did you choose?,” he asked.

 

He still remembered how scared he had been when he wrote his, even though he was being recruited for rugby. He’d chosen the boring one: _Discuss someone who has had a profound impact in your life_.

 

“ _Discuss a time you went against what was expected of you to do what was right_ ,” she told him.

 

It didn’t take a genius to guess what she would be discussing. From what Arya had told him, she hadn’t spoken to her family in weeks. He didn’t take any joy from that, he had no respect for the Lannisters but he didn’t want her isolated from everyone she loved because of him.

 

He didn’t say anything, he just removed his arm from hers and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her close so that he could press a kiss to her temple.

 

She leaned against him like she wasn’t isolated from _everyone_ she loved.

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

“Oh please not the scarf!,” Jon protested.

 

She put her hands on her hips, “The scarf _makes_ the costume… Fred always wore one.”

 

Jon sighed and took it from her, wrapping it around his neck and fumbling with the ends. She stepped forward and took it from him, tying it just so and stepping back to look at him.

 

“ _Perfect_ , now all you need is the wig…,” she reasoned.

 

“NO! _No_ , no wig!,” Jon argued, “You never said _anything_ about a wig.”

 

She giggled, he was just too easy. She had no intention of covering up his gorgeous black curls with an ugly blonde wig, but she couldn’t resist toying with him either. He hated to say no to her.

 

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in his delicious smell. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it was distinct to him and it relaxed her and excited her all at once.

 

“But I think you’d be sexy as a blonde,” she pouted, looking up at him through lowered lashes.

 

“Sansa…,” he sighed, then looked down at her, “Wait really?”

 

She tried to keep a straight face, she really did, but she couldn’t stop the giggle escaping her lips.

 

“Oh you are _so_ dead,” he growled, tackling her back onto her bed.

 

She let out a squeal as he tickled her, trying to make him stop. She knew of one surefire way, so she leaned up and kissed him.

 

The fingers that had just been poking into her skin were now gripping it softly as his lips wandered over hers. She had never been able to breathe properly when he kissed her, but she didn’t mind.

 

His hand wandered down her back and squeezed her butt briefly, before it trailed up her arm and neck until it cupped her cheek. He sucked on her bottom lip and a flash of pleasure raged through her body.

 

Her fingers found the scarf and she tugged on it gently, until it fell off of him. Her hands moved down the strong muscles of his back, down to the hem of his shirt so she could start to pull it up. He helped her get it off of him and then captured her lips again.

 

She started pulling her sweater up, breaking the kiss so that she could pull it over her head. He smoothed her hair and went to kiss her again, but she pulled back slightly.

 

She looked him in the eyes, desperate for him to understand her intention without her having to say anything. His charcoal eyes were nearly black as her fingers trailed down his back slowly.

 

“Are you sure?,” he asked her. She nodded, pressing herself against his warm chest. She wanted to feel every inch of him, she didn’t want any barriers between them. “Why now?”

 

She grinned and pushed him back so that he rested against the pillows. She climbed on top of him, straddling him.

 

“Because you would have worn the wig if I’d asked you to,” she told him knowingly. She leaned down and kissed him and his hands wove into her hair. She leaned back and he came with her, until he was sitting up. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall of her of her and she broke their kiss. His eyes wandered over her face, down to her chest and back up, lingering on her lips before resting on her eyes. She felt tears come to them and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Because you’re looking at me like _that,_ ” she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to him, “And because I am painfully aware of just how completely in love with you I am.”

 

“ _Sansa_ ,” he whispered her name like a prayer.

 

He always had, she’d realised it when she was sixteen years old. That he never sounded quite so pious as when he was saying her name.

 

“ _Jon_ ,” she whispered, because she was just as devout as he.

 

After that there were no words, only fervent kissing and shaky hands. It was her first time, and though it wasn’t his there seemed something wholly new about him. As though nothing before her really mattered.

 

He was gentle with her, so gentle, and it made her feel brave and strong.

 

“Are you alright?,” he asked her afterwards.

 

They were laying under her duvet, listening to the sound of the rain hitting her windows. They were tangled up in each other, and she had never liked her body quite so much as when it was indiscernible from his.

 

“Do you still love me?,” she asked.

 

“More than anything,” he promised her.

 

She smiled and burrowed into him deeper, “Then I am very perfectly alright.”

 

He kissed her forehead and her nose and then it seemed perfectly reasonable that he would press a kiss to her lips. The way they were tangled up in each other made it quite clear to both of them how much they enjoyed being so, and they weren’t supposed to meet their friends for hours yet.

 

“ _Sansa_ ,” he whispered as he worshipped her again.

 

“ _Jon_ ,” she prayed as she approached divinity.

 

***

  
****

**Arya**

 

“So?,” Arya prompted.

 

“So what?,” Sansa asked coyly.

 

“You’re too smart to play dumb, Dovey,” she chided, “You fucked him didn’t you?”

 

“Arya!,” Sansa blushed, pressing her palms to her cheeks.

 

“I can go,” Ella offered politely.

 

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Sansa ordered, grabbing hold of her arm.

 

Ella’s green eyes widened comically and Arya giggled as Ella hopped up on the boys’ kitchen counter. They were all there predrinking before the series of Halloween parties they’d be attending that evening.

 

The boys were all in the living room playing Kings but she had pulled Sansa and Ella in there after she’d seen Sansa give Jon a particularly lust filled look. 

 

“Fine,” Ella said, “We’ll change the subject.”

 

“Thank you,” Sansa sighed.

 

They all stood in silence for a moment, sipping their drinks.

 

“So did you Scooby-dooby-do Jon?,” Ella asked innocently.

 

Arya doubled over and Sansa let out a surprised scream. All at once the four boys ran into the kitchen, skidding to a stop on the hardwood floor like they were in The Breakfast Club.

 

“What happened?,” Gendry demanded.

 

“Just testing your reaction time,” Ella teased them.

 

“Yeah go back in there and will try again in a few minutes,” Arya couldn’t help but join in.

 

The boys rolled their eyes, a couple of them grinning and went to go back into the living room.

 

“Wait, no, Jon stay!,” Sansa called and glided over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

He pulled her close and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. They didn’t kiss or anything, they just looked into each other’s eyes smiling gooey smiles at one another. Which was a thousand times worse.

 

“For the love of my gag reflex please take that elsewhere,” Arya requested.

 

Jon chuckled and took Sansa’s hand and lead her into the living room. Sansa turned and stuck her tongue out at her and then mouthed _I love him_ her hand on her heart and her eyes looking towards the heavens.

 

“They totally fucked,” Arya concluded when she and Ella were alone.

 

“How can you tell?,” Ella asked with a sweet grin, “I mean, they’re always adorable like that.”

 

She was right. Arya wouldn’t have ever said it out loud, but Jon and Sansa were absolutely, undeniably, couples costume-y in love and it was completely adorable.

 

“You can always tell after the first time a couple does,” she shrugged, “I mean _you_ know, it always feels different after the first time, right?”

 

Ella glanced at her blankly and blushed, “Right well, I mean, I’ve heard it changes things…”

 

Ella put her finger under her chin and closed Arya’s mouth for her.

 

“You’re a _virgin_?,” Arya asked.

 

Ella rolled her eyes, “Can you please not say that like I’m some kind of endangered species?”

 

“Well, you kind of are,” Arya pointed out. “I can’t believe you’re a virgin!”

 

“Iiiiii’m _so_ sorry ladies,” Theon skidded back into the kitchen.

 

Ella turned to him with a withering stare and asked, “Did you just hear the word ‘virgin’ and run in here?”

 

“There’s absolutely no way of proving that,” Theon evaded and then started sauntering over to her.

 

He, like Robb, was dressed as a warrior. Unlike Robb, he was shirtless and had greased his chest for the occasion.

 

“So, _Ella -_ ,” Theon began.

 

“Just assume I’ve taken a vow of celibacy,” Ella cut him off and brushed by him, completely unfazed.

 

He was a dick for sure, but he was also gorgeous, and it was strangely gratifying for both of those reasons to see Ella so effortlessly blow him off. He watched her go with a smirk on his face.

 

“What _is_ it about her?,” Theon asked.

 

“Well she’s gorgeous, and smart, and sweet… and has absolutely zero interest in you,” Arya pointed off.

 

“That’s my sweet spot,” Theon nodded with a grin.

 

Arya rolled her eyes and went into the living room and sat down next Robb.

 

“You know, you’re _supposed_ to wear a costume on Halloween,” Robb teased her.

 

She smirked, conceding the point. She was dressed as Wednesday Adams and had found that she didn’t need to buy anything for the costume, it was all already in her closet.

 

“I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour,” Arya quoted.

 

“That’s my girl,” Jon grinned at her.

 

Gendry stood up and walked over to her, “What do you say m’lady, should the night begin?”

 

They all turned to look at her. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d established herself as the master of ceremonies for a university she didn’t even go to, but she had to admit that she loved the power.

 

“Let the night begin!”

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

“Jon!,” Sansa exclaimed.

 

In her defence he had caught her as she was coming out of the bathroom and dragged her right back into it, shoved her up against the wall, and kissed her like her life depended on it.

 

He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He’d always struggled with it, but after this afternoon it was excruciating to be parted from her even for a second. He was well and truly fucked, he knew, but he didn’t care, not when she was pulling him closer.

 

“Tell me we don’t have to stay long,” he pleaded.

 

“It’s Halloween,” she protested.

 

“And if you leave I’ll give you a treat,” he promised.

 

She giggled and kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her soft breasts pressed against his chest. His hands wandered down and cupped her ass and she moaned into his mouth.

 

“Fuck I want you,” he growled at her.

 

“But if I let you fuck me in here then you won’t be able to look Robb in the eye for the rest of the night and he’ll know what happened just like Arya does,” Sansa pointed out.

 

She made a good point. He’d been averting Robb’s gaze all evening. It was worth it, obviously. Still, there was something different about making love to your girlfriend in her dorm room as opposed to fucking her in the bathroom of a party.

 

There was a knock on the door then, which was probably for the best, because in spite of how much he loved Robb, he had been beginning to feel like there wasn’t really any pressing reason he’d ever have to look him in the eye.

 

“Just a minute,” Sansa said sweetly.

 

She went to the mirror and straightened the hem of her dress, fluffing her beautiful auburn hair. She turned to him with a grin and wiped his lips, probably ridding him of her lipstick and offered her hand.

 

“Come on, come dance with me and I’ll give _you_ a treat later,” she promised.

 

He groaned and nodded, opening up the door to find Ella standing there. She gave them a small smile. It was much kinder than the reception any of their other friends would had given them.

 

“We’re going to go dance,” Sansa told her, “Come find us!”

 

Ella promised that she would before heading into the bathroom and he lead Sansa through the party. Other than the decorations and the costumes, it was just like any other party on any other Saturday night on campus.

 

There was dancing in one room and games in another. There was a coffee table that was covered in a light white residue and rolled up dollar bills. Two seniors had already gotten in a fight over a freshman girl before her sorority sisters had very smartly walked her home.

 

His friends were littered about. Gendry and Arya were dancing and last he’d seen Robb and Theon had challenged two girls to strip beer pong. Or more accurately, Theon had challenged them and when the girls had readily agreed Robb had stuck around.

 

“Come onnn,” Sansa urged and pulled him to the dance floor.

 

She was already shaking her hips, moving to the beat. He wasn’t much of a dancer but he wasn’t going to miss a show like that.

 

“Oi!,” Arya called to them and they made their way over.

 

He twirled Arya as Sansa and Gendry started doing truly ridiculous dance moves at one another. At. Not with. It wasn’t even a competition, it was like they were just trying them out.

 

His friends were so fucking weird. Including his girlfriend that he loved more than life itself.

 

They danced for ages, until they were all sweaty and drunk, and as Sansa shimmied against him he decided that maybe he was a dancer after all.

 

***

 

**Robb**

 

 

“Come on, Stark, _miss_ ,” Lyssy Bulwer cooed at him in that strange, throaty voice of hers.

 

“For your sake, I almost hope I do,” he teased, tossing the ping pong ball and grinning as it fell right in the front cup, “But for my sake I’m _very_ glad I didn’t.”

 

He wasn’t entirely sure what had caused Theon to think of strip beer pong, or what had possessed Margery and Lyssy to agree to it, but either way he was thankful for how fucking weird his friends were. Especially when they looked like Margery and Lyssy.

 

Theon shot and missed and removed the eye patch he’d stolen from a pirate who’s one visible eye had looked at Sansa the wrong way.

 

Robb chuckled and took a sip of his beer as Lyssy and Margery both shot and missed.

 

“Strip, strip, strip!,” Theon shouted.

 

Lyssy chose her feather boa and Margery her crown, but they were just getting started.

 

They all made a few more rounds of shots. When he finally missed he also took off his crown - for some reason Sansa had decided he couldn’t just be a crusader, but a crusader King, and he hadn’t argued with her.

 

He and Theon were winning, but the girls were wearing a lot of accessories so it didn’t quite feel like it. Perhaps that was why Margery had agreed to play.

 

“Oi beautiful!,” Theon called as Robb was about to toss the ball.

 

It could have been to anyone, but it wasn’t.

 

Ella walked over to them with a grin on her stunning face, “Aww Theon, are you finally going to do your walk of atonement?,” she asked, gesturing to the fact that Theon was one cup away from being in his underwear.

 

 _If_ he was wearing any.

 

“Now what exactly would I have to atone for, Miss Baratheon?,” Theon asked her flirtatiously.

 

“Your general existence,” Margery offered in support.

 

Ella giggled and shrugged, like she couldn’t have said it any better herself.

 

“Who’s this then?,” Lyssy asked curiously.

 

“This is Ella,” he said and added quickly, like a moron, “She’s Gendry’s little sister.”

 

She glanced at him in annoyance briefly and then waved at the girls, who promptly complimented her on her costume. He wasn’t really sure who she was supposed to be, but Sansa had been gushing about how _historically accurate_ it was and how _gorgeous_ she looked and how isn’t she _so fucking great?_

 

Okay, so he was wound a little tight.

 

He’d been trying since their talk at the party a few weeks back. He really had been. She was, as promised, around a lot now. For the most part he loved it. She had an uncanny knack for putting Theon in his place, getting Gendry and Jon out of their shells, and playing referee when Sansa and Arya reverted into their preteen sibling rivalry - which he and all the guys stayed well clear of. It was like they’d all been waiting for her and when they’d found her she’d suddenly made them all work a little bit better.

 

The problem was, that she made him want to be a little better too. Or a lot better. The kind of guy that was maybe even someone who wouldn’t be forbidden to date her.

 

They’d become friends, he supposed. They had inside jokes and she’d painted his number on her cheek for their last rugby game. It was along with Jon, Gendry, and Theon’s, but still. It was there. Right on the apple of her left cheek.

 

Anyway, he’d been trying so hard to be good that he hadn’t slept with someone in two weeks, and she was always showing up, smelling like her jasmine body wash, wearing her prissy clothes, and carrying around that face of hers like she wanted to destroy his life.

 

And _now_ here she was, standing with the two girls that he had slept with most recently, who had both taken off a fair amount of clothing, and all he wanted to know was what she had on underneath that pink dress.

 

“Come onnnn, do a celeb shot,” Lyssy begged her.

 

“I don’t want to get naked,” Ella grinned.

 

“So don’t miss,” he taunted.

 

Ella’s eyes flickered over to his and the rest of the room got kind of hazy, or dark, like he was in a tunnel, and all he could see was her. He’d hit a nerve, she never backed away from a dare, and they both knew that had been a dare.

 

She stepped forward and took the ball that Lyssy offered her. She tossed it gently up in the air and it splashed right in the cup closest to him.

 

“Thanks for the advice, Stark,” she said with a cheeky grin and a wink, “Later.”

 

With that she walked away, or rather seemed to bounce away towards the dance floor. His eyes couldn’t help but follow her. She was either completely oblivious or entirely indifferent to the way every guy turned to look at her as she walked by and he started breathing easier when he saw Jon picking her up off the ground in a hug.

 

He turned back to the game but caught Margery’s eye instead.

 

“You two finish the game,” she told Lyssy and Theon, “Stark and I are going to have ourselves a drink.”

 

Theon all but bowed in Margery’s presence. He’d been wanting to sleep with Lyssy for ages, and from the looks she’d been giving him all night, he might just have a chance.

 

Robb gestured for Margery to walk and she did, towards the kitchen, swaying her hips like she knew exactly how good they looked in motion. The problem was he didn’t even care.

 

They got into the kitchen and she grabbed two shot glasses and washed them with actual dish soap before pouring whiskey into them. She was a neat freak, which he’d forgotten about her, it was one of her more adorable characteristics.

 

“So you’re fucked, huh?,” she asked after they tossed the shots back.

 

“And why is that?,” he evaded.

 

She snorted, “It’s been a while since you last called or texted. Or showed up at my door with cupcakes and condoms.”

 

He grinned, that had been a good night.

 

“Yeah well, you know, I’ve got to maintain my mystique,” he joked.

 

It was easy to joke with someone who saw right through you.

 

“She’s lovely,” Margery nodded, resting her elbow on his shoulder and stroking his hair, “Painfully so, I’d wager.”

 

“Everyone’s saying I’ve got to stay away from her,” he confessed.

 

“What does she have to say about that?,” Margery challenged.

 

“You sound just like her,” he grimaced.

 

“Well now I _know_ I’d like her,” Margery giggled.

 

“What do I do, Marg?,” he asked.

 

“Well,” she sighed, “I’d start by _not_ introducing her to people as Gendry’s little sister. And then I’d try to figure out what you want. And then what she wants. And in a very distant, so distant you can _hardly_ even see it third place I’d worry about what other people want.”

 

“You make it sound so simple,” he told her.

 

She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. There was goodbye in her eyes, and it was alright, he was ready, but she was never quite so beautiful as when she was leaving him.

 

“Let me tell you the great secret that all the poets and playwrights never wanted us to know - in the end, it isn’t all that hard to be happy.”

 

***

 

**Myrcella**

 

The evening had gotten a little out of control.

 

At some point past two, Arya had decided that the party was _over_ and so a group of them had all gone back to the boys’ apartment for an afterparty.

 

When they’d gotten back to the boys’ more drinks had been made, along with pancakes, which Jon thought might sober Sansa up, but had only succeeded in a bag of chocolate chips exploding on the kitchen floor.

 

Gendry had been too drunk to walk her back to the main part of campus and he and Arya had crashed in Theon’s room (who had left the original party with that girl Lyssy, her pink feather boa wrapped around his neck). That was just as well because Sansa, who had offered her the use of her dorm room, had been carried to bed by Jon at three, singing all the while, and nobody knew where her keys were.

 

“I can go back to school,” she told Robb as the last of the guests trickled out.

 

“At nearly four in the morning with gin on your tongue? No way,” he argued.

 

He looked over at her, he was so handsome that sometimes it hurt when he looked at her like this, like she was the finest sight he’d ever seen and he wouldn’t mind going on looking at her for a while yet.

 

“Take my bed,” he told her, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

 

“I can sleep on the couch,” she dismissed.

 

“Not a chance,” he shook his head, as he locked up the apartment. “I just need to grab some sweats or something. Come with me, I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

 

She was going to protest that she could sleep in her dress but he fixed her with a look as though he _knew_ she was going to offer that and like she was very silly. She wasn’t sure how he conveyed that all in one look, but he did, and she followed him silently.

 

His bedroom was cleaner than she would have expected, much cleaner than Gendry’s dorm room. She noted too that the bed was freshly made. She wondered about the last time the sheets had been cleaned, wondered if any other girls had slept in this bed since they had.

 

For some reason she guessed that they hadn’t.

 

She knew he slept around a bit, there was a constant rotation of girls sidling up to him at parties, new ones all the time that wanted their chance with him. But he didn’t seem like the kind of boy that would let her sleep in sheets where he’d slept with someone else.

 

He went into his drawers and pulled out a t shirt that had _Wintertown Direwolves_ emblazoned on it and a pair of sweatpants and handed them to her and then grabbed things for himself.

 

“So um… bathroom is down the hall,” he said stiffly, like she hadn’t been there many times before.

 

“I know… thank you,” she replied.

 

“And um… the light is right here,” he said, pointing to a very obvious switch.

 

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, “Thank you.”

 

“And… if you get thirsty there is water in the kitchen, and food! Take anything you want from the fridge…,” he went on, as though she hadn’t been the one to crack the eggs for pancakes.

 

“Thank you,” she said again. He looked at her and gave her that sheepish grin, the one that turned her insides into knots. She stepped forward and he took a step away from her, like she was a wild animal. She stopped short and tried to hide her blush, “For letting me stay here.”

 

“Anytime,” he said easily and then his voice grew darker, like clouds gathering before a storm, “I like having you here. Even if it hurts.”

 

She wanted to say something to that, anything, but he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

She looked around, at the pictures all around the room. There were ones with him and the team, with Jon, Theon and Gendry, their arms around each other’s shoulders. There were ones with his whole family, one of him and Sansa in evening wear, laughing as he dipped her back in a dance. She glanced at his desk and was surprised to see her face in one of them.

 

It was a picture that someone must have taken of her, Sansa and Arya after his game the week before. They were all in winter hats and jackets and gloves despite it only being October. Their arms were wrapped around each other, their pink cheeks covered in the boys’ numbers all pressed against one another’s. She’d been in the middle, and she remembered how happy they’d been, watching their boys defeat the other team.

 

She took out the larger silver ball earrings she’d been wearing and placed them on his desk. She took off her dress and folded it and placed it beside her earrings and pulled on the t shirt and sweatpants he’d given her. They were the softest things she’d ever felt, and though the sweatpants wouldn’t quite stay up, even after drawing the string as tightly as possible, she couldn’t remember being so comfortable.

 

She went into her clutch and grabbed out the travel toothpaste and toothbrush. She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to move them from the larger bag she’d left in Sansa’s dorm room but she was glad that she had.

 

She padded down the hall quietly to the bathroom and closed the door, brushing her teeth. She washed her face as well because her costume required a lot of make-up and she hated waking up with it caked to her face. Finally she took out the chignon. She hadn’t realised how tight her hair had been until it was loose and she ran her fingers through it, massaging her scalp.

 

When she was finished she opened the door to find Robb waiting there.

 

“I was just brushing my teeth,” she said stupidly, even holding up her toothbrush as evidence.

 

She thought he might laugh at her, but his gaze was serious as it trailed down from her face, and lingered over his t shirt, and travelled all the way down to her toes. When it finally came back up, his eyes were nearing black and he nodded at her.

 

She wanted to move, she knew she had to move, but she couldn’t.

 

“Robb,” she tried to say, but it came out somewhere between a whisper and a whimper.

 

He stepped closer to her, and it took all of her strength not to step away. She understood it now, his reaction when she went to close the distance between them in his bedroom.

 

His hands were on her arms, and it felt like she was being scalded but she didn’t mind, but then she realised that he was moving her gently out of the way.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Maybe she didn’t affect him the way he affected her after all. Maybe it really was all in her head. Maybe, to him, she really was just Gendry’s little sister.

 

“I don’t think you should sleep on the couch,” she told him, because if she didn’t affect him than she wasn’t going to let him affect her, “You’re too big for it.”

 

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, El,” he sighed.

 

“We’ll just share the bed,” she said, like she shared a bed with the boy who made her heart ache all the time, “It’s no big deal.”

 

“No big…,” he started and his gaze fell to hers. It was alit with a challenge in his eyes and he said, “Fine, meet you there.”

 

She hadn’t really expected him to say _yes_ but she should have. He never backed away from a challenge and admitting that he had to sleep on the couch would be like admitting defeat. Robb Stark never said no to a dare. It was something they had in common.

 

She nodded and walked stubbornly to his bedroom.

 

She climbed into bed and turned on her side, away from the door. She fought to keep her breathing normal, closing her eyes and concentrating on the softness of the pillows and the comforting weight of his duvet. She wondered briefly if his mother had picked it out, or maybe Sansa. She couldn’t quite imagine him walking through the home section but the dark blue flannel fit him all the same, like it had been picked out by someone who loved him.

 

She heard the door close behind her and then the room was coated in darkness when he turned out the light. She felt the duvet lifting off of her and the mattress sinking a bit as he got in.

 

She hadn’t factored in that facing this way would mean facing him and she wasn’t sure how to move without it being obvious.

 

He lay on his back and she could tell that his eyes were closed but his breathing seemed purposeful, like it wasn’t happening quite naturally. Hers wasn’t either.

 

Maybe talking would help.

 

“It was a fun party,” she said softly.

 

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he told her. He didn’t say it offhandedly, he said it like that mattered to him.

 

“Not as good a time as _some_ ,” she grinned, “I think Gendry will be hurting tomorrow.”

 

He chuckled, “I think _I’ll_ be hurting from the memory of his rendition of Someone Like You.”

 

She giggled, thinking of Gendry insisting on karaoke even though the boys didn’t have a karaoke machine.

 

“That giggle,” he sighed.

 

The air around them changed and she realised that talking wasn’t going to help. Nothing was going to help. Nothing was going to mitigate the facts. That they had both had a bit to drink and were the only two awake, and that as much as they may try to deny it, to everyone else, or themselves, that they were wholly affected by one another, and had been for some time. Maybe even from the start.

 

“I like being here, too,” she all but whispered, “Even though it hurts.”

 

“Ella,” he whimpered, “Please… I’ve made so many promises.”

 

That angered her, it had been angering her for some time now. That he had been speaking to other people about it when he should have been talking to her. That he knew what he felt, and probably what she did too, and was willing to give it up for some vague notion of loyalty.

 

Anger had always made her brave.

 

“Well I haven’t,” she told him.

 

With that she slid over and hitched one leg over him until she was straddling him. His hands met her body immediately and she was afraid he might move her gently, but he didn’t. Instead he grasped onto her like he was the one who was afraid.

 

Before she could think better of it she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his. All the anger dissipated from her bloodstream at that first touch.

 

She melted against him and he enveloped her and then she wasn’t really sure who was kissing who but it didn’t matter.

 

 _This is what it’s supposed to feel like_.

 

His arm was wrapped around her back and his other hand was in her hair and her hands were cupping his cheeks, his scruff feeling masculine and vital underneath her fingertips.

 

She nibbled on his bottom lip and he groaned, shooting surges of pleasure through her entire body. He rolled them then and he was on top of her and though it should have hurt it didn’t, she just wanted him closer still.

 

Her hands wandered under his t shirt up the sinewy muscles of his back. He broke their kiss and then he was pressing feather light kisses to her neck that made her whimper because she needed more. She dug her fingernails into his back to tell him so and he groaned.

 

“ _Fuck, Ella_ ,” he groaned and then his lips met hers again.

 

She lifted her body to press it more against his and he grabbed her butt harshly. She moaned against his lips and he sucked on her lip, making her moan again.

 

“Ella,” he choked out, “If you keep making those sounds I’m going to lose my mind.”

 

“That’s okay, I always thought sanity was kind of overrated anyway,” she assured him and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

 

She could feel him smile against her lips but he started kissing her slower, more gently. It felt like rejection, a soft, sweet, rejection, but rejection all the same.

 

“Robb?,” she asked, because as far as blows went, she preferred them swift.

 

He looked down at her, his eyes trailing over every part of her face. His knuckle grazed her cheekbone and then he leaned down and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to her lips. It tasted like goodbye.

 

“Don’t,” she whispered.

 

“I’m not,” he told her, but he got off of her and lay on his side, “But it’s enough - for tonight.”

 

 _No it’s not_.

 

He chuckled, and she hadn’t realised that she’d spoken out loud until he said, “No, it’s not. But it’s very late and you’re very beautiful and that is the sort of combination that turns me into a man unworthy of you. So let’s go to sleep, so that I can pretend to be better than I am.”

 

“Okay,” she agreed. She turned on her side as well, facing him, and let her fingers trail down the hollow of his cheek, “But for the record, I’d never ask you to be better, only to be mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will have some more Gendrya moments, because the other pairs played a bit more prominently in this one.


	9. It wasn't the wine that killed him

**Gendry**

 

_Don’t wake the beast. Just lie here, very still, and maybe your body will forget to be hungover._

 

“You’re trying to trick your hangover again, aren’t you?,” Arya asked him.

 

“It is so creepy how you do that,” he told her, pulling her closer and breathing in her familiar smell.

 

She always smelled like lilacs and sea air, though they were nowhere near the beach. It’s what his home down south smelled like though, so he supposed it made sense that she did too.

 

“It hurts, Gendry, it hurts,” she whimpered.

 

She burrowed into his chest and he massaged the back of her neck. She let out a moan, rubbing her bare calf against his.

 

He’d known he was in love with her the first day they woke up in bed hungover together. Usually he’d be desperate to get away from the girl, not wanting her stinky alcohol filled breath in his face, or her smudged eye make up, or her greasy hair. He usually wanted to wallow on his own, where he didn’t have to make small talk or tell her she looked pretty or stroke her hair. That first morning though had been different.

 

_“I should go,” she said, but it was muffled because she had his comforter held up in front of her lips._

 

_“What are you doing?,” he asked._

 

_“You don’t like me enough to smell my morning breath yet,” she said, still muffled, “You haven’t earned it.”_

 

_He chuckled and pulled the comforter down so that he could press a kiss to her perfect plump lips. Maybe she did have morning breath but so did he, and they’d both drank whiskey the night before._

 

_He pulled the comforter up over their heads._

 

_“Don’t go,” he urged her, “Stay a while and let me earn it.”_

 

_“And how do you propose to do that?,” she asked in that coy voice that was so unlike her usual one. The tone he’d only ever heard her use with him._

 

_His hand cupped her cheek as he pressed another kiss to her, and then wandered down her tiny, lithe body, over her breast and abdomen, covered in his t shirt. He lifted the hem slowly and let his fingers trail over the velvety skin in between her thighs. Her breath hitched and she parted her legs for him further._

 

_“How am I doing so far?”_

 

It had been another month before he’d told her. They’d been in bed then too and she woke him up with a pillow to the face.

 

_“Ow!,” he grumbled._

 

_“Wake up, you asshat!,” she bellowed._

 

_“What’s your problem?,” he wondered._

 

_Last night had been amazing, from what he could remember of it._

 

_“My problem is that you told me that you loved me last night!,” she said, shoving him, kicking him in the shin._

 

_“Fuck, ow! What’s wrong with that?,” he asked her._

 

_“Well do you?,” she demanded._

 

_“Of course I do - that’s what I said, isn’t it?,” he challenged._

 

_“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know.”_

 

_“Well now you do. Now can I go back to sleep, or do you want to kick me some more?”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_“No?”_

 

_“I haven’t kissed you yet. Or said it back. Don’t you want to know that I love you too?”_

 

He had already known that. He didn’t consider himself a savant when it came to feelings or anything, but Arya was the kind of girl that loved with her whole body. She was feisty, to be sure, but horribly loyal and deeply thoughtful, and incredibly sweet when he needed her most.

 

“Baby if I don’t get some water and some grease I might die. Do you think they have any bacon left?,” she asked.

 

It was only then that he realised they were not in his dorm room but in another bed all together. He looked around and saw an alphabetised porn collection - Theon. He was a pervert but an incredibly organised one.

 

“Let’s go see,” he sighed, “I’ll take you for breakfast if not.”

 

“Oh we should see if Ella will come!,” Arya said, suddenly energised. She hopped out of bed and went into Theon’s drawer and pulled on a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “She found this really cute cafe in town that I’d never been to and their egg sandwiches are the most sexual thing I’ve ever experienced.”

 

“That’s offensive,” he joked as he got out of bed.

 

He pulled back on the pants from his costume and placed his hands on Arya’s shoulders, rubbing them as he followed her out of Theon’s room. Now that he thought about it, he needed to find his cell phone. He had really failed in his big brother duties the night before, he had no idea where Ella had ended up.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

It was all so new to him. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, but even still.

 

As though he’d conjured her she stepped into the living room giggling softly. He smiled when she saw her, she was also wearing someone else clothes and they dwarfed her tiny frame. She hadn’t seen him yet and he opened his mouth to greet her.

 

But that’s when Robb followed her out of his bedroom and pulled her to him before planting a kiss on her smiling lips.

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

Sansa woke up to the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen - Jon Snow smiling at her.

 

And all she wanted to do… was vomit.

 

“I’m going to be sick,” she exclaimed, clapping her hand over her mouth and rushing out of the bed.

 

She briefly looked down to make sure that she was clothed before running into the bathroom. She banged the door shut and collapsed in front of the toilet, retching hopefully most of the alcohol she’d had the night before.

 

“Oh Dovey,” she heard Jon sigh from behind her.

 

“Go-,” she started but then retched again.

 

He pulled her hair back and knelt down on the floor behind her, rubbing her back as she retched again and again.

 

When it felt like her whole body was empty she finally stopped and flushed the toilet, sitting down on the bathroom floor and resting her head against the sink. She was crying like a baby but she didn’t care. She hated throwing up.

 

Jon got off the floor and grabbed a wash cloth out of the linen closet and ran it under water before kneeling down in front of her.

 

“Look at me,” he requested.

 

“I can’t,” she whimpered.

 

He pulled her hands away from her gently, “You’ll feel better if you let me do this, I promise, and then you can get right back into bed.”

 

The idea of bed was enough to tempt her and she dropped her hands and lifted her face to him, though she shut her eyes because she couldn’t bare to look at his handsome face when she looked so terrible.

 

She nearly moaned when the cool wet washcloth met her cheek. He rubbed at her skin gently, clearing it of her makeup from the night before and anything else that might be on it, and dragged it down to her neck, lifting up her hair and rubbing the back of her neck as well.

 

“You’re going to be such a good Dad,” she told him. And then she wanted to vomit all over again. “I didn’t mean it like - I don’t think about _that_.”

 

“No?,” he asked her casually, “I do. I think if we have a boy we should name him Robb.”

 

She grinned in spite of herself and opened her eyes. She looked to see if he was teasing her but she found no signs of laughter in his eyes.

 

“But what I really want,” he told her, “Is a daughter who looks just like you… And the first time she comes home as drunk as you were last night I’m going to ground her _so_ hard.”

 

She couldn’t say anything to that so she stood up and went into the medicine cabinet and pulled out her spare pink toothbrush that she’d left here a couple of weeks ago. None of the boys had said anything about it so she hadn’t either, but Theon had bought the lemon hand soap she liked for the bathroom the next day.

 

She brushed her teeth diligently and used the boys’ mouthwash and then she knelt back on the floor and pressed her lips to Jon’s.

 

“One of these days I’m going to be rotten, and it’ll be all your fault,” she warned him.

 

“Loving you isn’t the same thing as spoiling you,” he told her. “Now let’s get you back to bed, because you must be _hurting._ You’re probably not the only one though.”

 

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!,” they heard someone bellow.

 

Jon helped her off the floor and they both scrambled out of the bathroom, her hangover entirely forgotten.

 

She skidded to a stop, bumping into Jon’s sturdy back as they saw the scene unfolding.

 

Gendry and Arya were on one side of the living room. Gendry wore the pants from his costume and nothing else and Arya was drowning in someone’s sweatshirt and sweatpants. That was nothing out of the ordinary.

She looked to the other side of the living room and saw Robb standing there, his hands up in front of him.

 

“What in Seven Hells is going on?,” Jon asked.

 

“He was just groping by my sister!,” Gendry growled.

 

It was only then that Sansa saw Ella standing on Robb’s other side.

 

“He wasn’t groping me,” she said calmly, “We were just kissing.”

 

“That’s all we did,” Robb promised, “We didn’t do any-“

 

“What the _fuck_ else would you have done?,” Gendry asked, crossing the room angrily. Jon moved to go stop him but Ella stood in front of Robb, holding her arms out, “What the _fuck_ else would you have done with my little sister?”

“I don’t know,” Robb shrugged, but Sansa knew his hackles had risen, “Maybe the same thing you’ve been doing with my little sister for the past year?”

 

_Point Robb._

 

“Move out of the way, Ella,” Gendry demanded.

 

“No,” Ella argued, “He didn’t do anything wrong. Except for that comment, which was in poor taste and offensive to me, Arya _and_ Gendry.”

 

They all waited with baited breath.

 

Robb lifted his hand as though he was going to stroke her hair and then brought it down to his side once again, his hand clenched.

 

“You’re right, that was unfair. I’m sorry. Gendry, Arya you know I’m glad you guys are together and Ella last night wasn’t about evening any score. It was -“

 

“I know,” Ella nodded.

 

“How _could_ you?,” Arya demanded. “You _promised_ me.”

 

“I kn-“

 

“NO! You _don’t_ know!,” Arya shouted at him. “You are my big brother and you made me a promise and you _broke_ it. And you know what the worst fucking part is?”

 

_No. Please don’t say it, it isn’t true. It’s going to kill him._

 

“What?,” Robb asked softly.

 

“If it had been her,” Arya said, pointing right at Sansa. Everyone turned to look at her and she wanted to cower behind Jon. “If it had been your precious Sansa who you promised it to you never would have broken it.”

 

_Yes he would have! Arya can’t you see? He loves her. It’s the most obvious thing about him._

 

She wanted to say all of that, but she didn’t get the chance, because Arya turned and slid into her black Doc Martins and ran out the door.

 

***

 

**Arya**

 

She was grateful it was the day after Halloween. It was practically a holiday in and of itself. Last year she and Sansa had bundled up and gotten coffee and sat on one of the benches on campus and watched the parade of walks of shame go by. It was fun trying to piece together the outfits, the costumes that no longer made sense with one or two integral elements missing.

 

So even though she was wearing Doc Martins and men’s sweatpants and a sweatshirt, her hair still in Wednesday Adam’s pigtail braids and what had to be a full inch of black make up smudged around her eyes, she didn’t really stand out.

 

 _Maybe she’s a zombie who got bit during gym class on a day that she’d forgotten her gym clothes so she had to wear what the school provided!_ she could imagine Sansa proposing.

 

She wandered onto main campus and found that bench where she’d sat with Sansa. They’d both still been at Arryn Academy then and Sansa had convinced her to go to the Halloween dance instead of out with the boys. It was her Senior Year and she didn’t want to miss out on everything with her friends. They hadn’t drank the night before and it had felt so pure, Sansa had even brought candy with her, harkening back to when they were just kids and their parents always let them have one piece of candy at breakfast the day after Halloween.

 

She plopped down and sat there, wishing that she had some coffee and some candy right now, and most of all, Sansa by her side.

 

But Sansa wouldn’t want to be anywhere near her right now, not after what she’d said. She’d seen the look in her eyes, the hurt. It wasn’t Sansa’s fault that she was the favourite, she always had been. Robb loved her fiercely, she knew that he did, but it was different with Sansa.

 

She didn’t mind most of the time. She and Robb had always gotten along, and he’d always included her, even when they were young and Sansa didn’t want him to. And besides, she had Jon. She even looked more like Jon’s little sister than Robb’s. So really, it was okay.

 

Until it wasn’t.

 

She sat there, wondering if she should go back to the boys’ apartment. She couldn’t go back to school like this, her dorm parents already didn’t trust her as far as they could throw her.

 

Somebody held a to go cup in front of her face. She looked up. _Robb_.

 

She took it gratefully, she still had a raging headache and took a sip. No milk, three sugars. Just the way she liked it.

 

He sat down on the bench next to her and sipped his own, which she knew would be have no sugar but a splash of cream.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute.

 

“That’s it? You’re sorry? You don’t want to offer some excuse?,” she wondered.

 

“There’s no excuse for breaking a promise,” he shook his head. “But that’s not what I’m apologising for. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt that I would hold myself to a higher standard for Sansa than I would for you.”

 

“Robb I-“

 

“No, you don’t have to explain. I get it. And I’m sorry. Sansa and I - we’re on the exact same wavelength, just like you and Jon are. But I love you both the same. And I value you both the same. And I need you both the same. And I’m so fucking sorry that I’ve let you think for one second that wasn’t the case.”

 

As far as apologies went, it was a pretty good one.

 

“It’s okay,” she said, “I shouldn’t have said it. I was upset. But thanks. It’s nice to hear.”

 

He nodded and took a sip of his coffee, so she did the same. She should have been cold, but she wasn’t, not with the coffee in her hands and Robb’s large arm pressed against hers. He’d always been like a furnace.

 

“I’m sorry,” she told him. She felt him turn to look at her but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry that I’m not okay with it.”

 

“I can guess, but I’d like to hear it from you. Why aren’t you?”

 

“Because she makes us all _work_ properly,” Arya said stupidly, “I don’t -“

 

She stopped speaking when he started chuckling and she looked at him curiously.

 

“Maybe I had it wrong, maybe you and I are the ones on the same wavelength after all. I thought the same thing last night,” he told her. “Go on.”

 

That threw her off a bit. She was used to Robb thinking about a girl’s ass or the way she’d looked at him.

 

“Well… Gendry is still getting to know her. And he loves her, Robb. He loves her so much. It’s like he can’t believe she’s _real_ , that she and he are going to belong to one another forever. But that’s the thing, Robb - they are. She’s his sister and she’s all the family he has left in the world. And she and I… well she’s my best friend at school, my only real friend there, I think. And it’s not just me, it’s Sansa too. She has Jeyne I guess but she’s kind of an idiot -,” she smiled when Robb started chuckling, “But she and Ella just kind of fit, and Ella always reminds us to be nice to each other. Not in an _annoying_ way, she just likes us so much and brings the best out of us and it always makes us see the best in each other.”

 

“And you’re afraid I’m going to break her heart.”

 

“Not on purpose,” she said softly, “But you might by accident.”

 

“Well then that’s it then,” Robb sighed after a moment. “I’ll end it.”

 

“Just like that?,” she wondered.

 

“Just like that,” he concurred.

 

She doubted that was all there was to it. Robb never shied away from what he wanted, he pursued it, head on. It was why he was so successful in school and in sports and with girls.

 

Even if he wanted to prove his devotion to her she couldn’t quite believe that he’d just fold like that. Even still, he was looking at her like it was that simple.

 

“Should we head back?,” she asked.

 

“Not yet,” he said, leaning back against the bench. He pulled a kit-kat out of his coat pocket and handed it to her before pulling out a twix for himself, “What do you think she was last night?”

 

She turned and looked in the direction he was gesturing. She was a pretty girl wearing some kind of blue bedazzled onesie.

 

“Ice skater?,” she guessed, “Ooh or maybe a smurf?”

 

“But make it fashion,” he deadpanned, wrapping his arm around her.

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

“Thanks for driving me back,” Ella said quietly from the passenger seat.

 

She hadn’t said much on the walk over to Sansa’s dorms to get her things or on the walk to the parking lot to grab his truck, but neither had he.

 

“It’s no trouble,” he told her honestly.

 

Things had gotten a little out of control that morning. After Arya had run off and Robb after her, he, Gendry, Sansa and Ella had stood in silence. After a while Ella had tried to apologise but Gendry hadn’t wanted to hear it and had stormed off back to his dorm.

 

Ella had stood there in shock, which he couldn’t really blame her for. The reactions in comparison to what had happened - two single people consensually kissing - weren’t really appropriate. It went further than that, he knew, but it was only logical for her to be surprised by the deepness of the anger that had followed.

 

He looked over at her briefly. She didn’t have any make up on and her hair was loose. She was wearing her light blue wool coat over her dress from the night before and a thick cream scarf was tucked under her chin. She looked, as he’d first thought, like little birds came to help her dress in the morning.

 

He knew that was part of the problem, Gendry’s certainly, but Arya’s too. It was everyone’s concern - that she was too much of an innocent. He’d found out last night that she was a virgin, which he felt bad about knowing because it really wasn’t any of his, or anyone else’s business. He hadn’t been surprised by it, but it had nothing to do with the innocence that shone from her either.

 

Hers was an innocence of her _soul,_ which had nothing to do with archaic notions of purity and everything to do with her morality and her braveness and her kindness. She could have slept with a hundred men and it would have done nothing to obscure it.

 

Robb had it too.

 

He knew what everyone thought. He knew that everyone was worried that Robb was going to hurt her. He’d hurt girls before, never intentionally, of course, but they fell in love with him so easily. He was always honest with them, he never told them he loved them or that they were the only one, even still, they believed what they wanted to in the dark and in the cold light of the morning, when he pressed a kiss to their cheek and offered his goodbyes it hurt them. Until he texted them the next weekend.

 

But it occurred to Jon that none of those girls were Ella Baratheon.

 

“What did it feel like?,” Ella asked, “The first time you kissed Sansa?”

 

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was such a cliche, the rainy day, the argument, the swift, sudden kiss and then the one that lingered.

 

“It made me realise that was what kissing was supposed to feel like, for one thing,” he told her, “I don’t if that makes sense but…”

 

“Yeah,” Ella nodded, “It makes sense.”

 

Everyone seemed to be so concerned about how bad Robb might be for her, but he wondered if any of them had stopped to consider just how _good_ he might be for her. He loved her, it was the most obvious thing about him, and it was entirely possible that she loved him too. That was usually a good place to start.

 

“They may come around,” he told her, though it sounded false to his own ears.

 

Her silence told him that it had sounded false to hers too.

 

He pulled into the gates of Arryn Academy, waving at Sid, the weekend watchman. He took of his cap and waved it at them and Ella blew him a kiss. Sweet, even in sorrow.

 

“You know you’re not really helping your cause,” he told her with a grin, trying to lighten the mood which wasn’t really his forte. “Can you really blame everyone for wanting to protect someone as sweet as you?”

 

“Have you ever heard the phrase _the sharpest blades are covered in the softest sheaths?_ ,” she asked him. He hadn’t. “It’s something my father used to say. I know what you all think of him, and you’re right, he wasn’t a good man. He drank too much and he whored and he had a temper and I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Gendry, but he was my Dad. You know?”

 

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, thinking of his own father that had never given him anything more than a trust fund, who he still called on his birthday every year anyway. “I know.”

 

“Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is that it’s a mistake to confuse kindness for weakness.”

 

_They all see her beauty, but not the iron underneath._

 

He drove through the familiar internal roads until he got to the end to her dorm. It was Sansa’s old one, and he remembered sneaking in one night after Sansa had found out her first boyfriend had cheated on her. They brought lemon cakes and her favourite movies and a bottle of vodka. It had been Robb’s idea.

 

When Robb loved someone, he’d be anything for them. Jon suspected though, that Ella just wanted him to be himself.

 

“This may not be a popular opinion but I’d be a hypocrite to tell you any different - don’t listen to them. If Robb’s who you want, and I don’t think you could have chosen better, then go for it. Don’t let anyone stand in your way. They’ll come around, they’ll have to - because none of them are ever letting you go.”

 

She turned to him and she let out a teary laugh.

 

“I came here looking for Gendry,” she said, shaking her head incredulously, “But have I ever told you how happy I am that I found you too?”

 

With that she pressed a warm kiss to his cheek and got out of the truck. It felt colder without her there, the girl was like sunshine.

 

“Hey El,” he called as she walked away.

 

She turned with a bright smile on her face, a single tear running down her cheek.

 

“Yeah Jon?”

 

“Robb couldn’t have chosen any better either. Not if he spent his whole life looking.”

 

***

 

**Robb**

 

He had hoped that the walk up to the stables would clear his head, but it hadn't. 

 

His feet felt heavy and his hands were shaky. He'd blame it on the hangover but he and Ella had been the only ones not drunk the night before. 

 

He wish he had been drunk. He wish he had been so wasted that he didn't remember. Didn't remember the awe when she'd rolled on top of him or the feel of her lips against his. He wished he didn't remember the way her body reacted to him. Most of all he wished he didn't remember the words she'd said right before she fell asleep. 

 

_I'd never ask you to be better, only to be mine._

 

He got up to the arena and saw a lone figure on a large chestnut colored horse. They were an elegant pair, and though the rider was facing away from him he knew it was her. 

 

She urged her horse into a gallop and took the first jump, and then the next and the next. She galloped by him and he saw her turn to look. She was nearing a jump and he was afraid the horse would miss it, but as though he knew he was carrying sacred charge he cleared the fence easily and she landed without incident.

 

She slowed and dismounted, pressing a kiss to the horse's face and then taking him by the lead and walking over to where Robb was standing. 

 

"Hi."

 

"Hey, you look good," he told her, "I mean, on the horse...not that you don't -"

 

"Thanks," she said with a smile, as though she knew he was an idiot and didn't mind, "But most of the credit goes to Oakheart here," she told him rubbing the horse, " _Oakheart_ would you like to meet Robb?"

 

She was so fucking cute. 

 

"Hiya Oakheart," he said and went to let him sniff his hand.

 

The horse, who had just been nuzzling against her went to bite him. 

 

_Maybe everyone knows I'm not good enough for her._

 

"Oakheart! Bad horse!," she reprimanded. He nuzzled against her though and she stroked him absentmindedly. "Sorry about that, he doesn't like men."

 

"Smart horse," he nodded. "El um, I think we should talk."

 

"Oh," she nodded, her eyes wide, "Okay. Let me just take him back to the stables."

 

They walked side by side, a fence between them through the arena and then onto the stables. The stable's caretaker was there and Ella handed him the reins, stroking Oakheart once again and promising to return soon. 

 

She took off her helmet and grabbed her bag, pulling her light blue wool coat on over her riding jacket. 

 

They walked in silence back down the lane he'd just come from. Arryn Academy was the most beautiful prep school in the country, with acres and acres of land that had been gifted from the estate of the original Jon Arryn. He missed it here, sometimes, the little stream that ran through campus and the place in the woods where all the seniors went to smoke and do their philosophy homework. 

 

"So you couldn't convince her," Ella guessed after a while. 

 

"It's for the best," he told her.

 

She stopped walking so he did too. 

 

"You didn't even try, did you?"

 

"Ella...," he said, reaching for her. She shrunk away from him and started walking again. "At least let me explain."

 

"What is there to explain?," she asked primly, "You don't want to be with me."

 

"It's more complicated than that, you know it is!," he argued. 

 

He hadn't meant to raise his voice but her calm goaded him in a way like nothing else. She, for her all her bubbliness, could be rigid as stone when she wanted to be and it made him feel like a snivelling child. 

 

She stopped walking again and crossed her arms. 

 

"Go ahead."

 

Now that he had her permission, he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say. She wasn't wrong, he hadn't tried to convince Arya. Listening to her talk about how important Ella was to Gendry and to her and to Sansa, he couldn’t.

 

_And you think I’d break her heart?_

 

_Not on purpose._

 

"Fine," she said after he'd been silent for far too long, "Why don't I guess what happened and you tell me if I'm right." She took a step towards him and went on, "Everyone's been telling you, since the day we met, to stay away from me. That made you want me _all_ the more because I was _forbidden_. And then we kissed and it _terrified_ you because you actually _feel_ something for me, and so when Arya told you all about how important my relationship is with Gendry and how worried she was about you hurting me, you didn't tell her that you wouldn't. You didn't tell her that it was different with me. You just took it - because you're scared and this was an easy way out."

 

"You think you know me so well." 

 

She did. She was dead on, of course she was. He couldn't risk it, couldn't risk _her_.

 

"Have you ever considered that you're not that complicated?," she asked him. She looked over him, really looked at him. He'd never seen her look at him that way. He'd never seen anyone look at him that way before. "You're just a coward."

 

"Ella don't be cruel, it isn't in your nature," he pleaded.

 

"It IS in my nature," she practically growled at him. "It's in my _blood_ , I'm not the delicate little flower you all seem to think I am."

 

He didn't think she was a delicate little flower. He never had. She was stronger than him by a mile. To do what she did, to be brave enough to change her whole life, going against her family's wishes. He knew she was strong, it was one of his favorite things about her. 

 

"You could fall in love with me, you know," she told him, a single tear dropping down her cheek, "If you let yourself."

 

_I fell long ago, without my permission._

 

"I know," he confessed instead.

 

"So why not try?," she reasoned, "We'll talk to Arya and Gendry, I know that they will come around. And... we can take it slow and…"

 

_You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?_

 

_No, I don’t think I will._

 

"And what?," he challenged, "What you're just happy to be one of many? You wouldn't care if I was making out with another girl at a party?"

 

He wasn't going to be able to convince her, he was going to have to make her hate him. She was too smart, she saw right through him. She knew he loved her and she wasn't going to let him just give up without a fight. She had told him last night that she would never ask him to be better but she didn't realize that whether she knew it or not, she asked him to all the time. She demanded it without even trying. 

 

"You wouldn't...," she protested. 

 

He loved her even more for that. Her faith in him. He'd like to think that he wouldn't do that. He couldn't imagine wanting anyone else if he got to be with her.

 

But he had a bad track record, and a wandering eye.

 

"Like hell I wouldn't!," he argued with more anger in his voice than he felt. "Do you know how many girls I've _crushed_ by doing _exactly_ that? El do you even have any idea how many girls I've _slept_ with and for fuck’s sake you're a -"

 

_Too far. Way too far._

 

"I'm a what?," she demanded. When he stayed silent she searched his face. Her eyes widened and she let out a silent cry, "A v- _a virgin_?"

 

"Ella I'm so -," he started trying to apologise, closing the distance between them. 

 

"Stay away from me!," she demanded. 

 

He stopped walking immediately and held his hands up. He couldn't imagine how she felt. Well, he could. That he was only after one thing and that he didn't think she was worth the time it would take to get it.

 

"I didn't mean that," he told her quietly. "I... I _didn't_ mean that."

 

"No," she shook her head, “To answer your question, I don't think I know you so well. In fact, as it turns out, I don't think I know you at all."

 

With that she turned and walked away. He knew better than to follow her, there was no point in it, after all. He'd succeeded. She hated him.

 

And he'd never loved her more.

 

***

 

**Myrcella**

 

Her legs hurt, but she didn’t care. They deserved to hurt, she supposed, after the hours of riding yesterday and the four miles she’d run today, and the fact that she’d been in the ballet studio for the past hour. So they were entitled to their pain.

 

But then again, wasn’t everyone?

 

She hadn’t slept the night before and her run had started at 5 o’clock, earning her a lecture from her dorm mother. _Their are wolves in these woods_ , she’d warned her.

 

A warning about the wolves at the university three miles down the road would have been more beneficial.

 

She was sad. She hated feeling sad. It was such a stubborn, useless emotion. Anxiety made her better, anger made her braver, but sadness? It just made her want to curl up in a ball and watch How to Steal a Million over and over again.

 

She refused to watch it two days in a row though, and had watched it, crying alone in bed the night before, so she had decided to keep active.

 

She was practicing her dance for the Winter Showcase. The ballet director of Vale University would be coming to see her in it so it had to be perfect. She’d be finding out a week after the Showcase if she had been accepted and she knew that if they were on the fence about her that this could tip the balance in either direction.

 

Everyone seemed to think she was certain to be accepted, including her academic advisor, but she didn’t want to leave it to chance.

 

She’d chosen a classical song with the Director in mind. He was quite daring in his own productions, but preferred his dancers to audition in a more traditional manner, wanting to mold them rather than have to balance personalities. _There is no room for personalities in my studio, mine takes up far too much already!_ he had been quoted as saying.

 

So she’d chosen one of her favorite songs by Rachmaninov and had choreographed a dance that she hoped was as beautiful as it was difficult.

 

When she finished she was surprised to hear clapping behind her.

 

She straightened up and turned around and looked into a pair of very sorry blue eyes.

 

“It’s you,” she said with a small smile.

 

“Yeah, the asshole that yelled at you and then ran away,” Gendry said.

 

“And here I was thinking I was the asshole that had kissed one of your best friends,” she tried for a joke.

 

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.

 

“No, El, you have _nothing_ to apologise for. You have every right to kiss whoever you want to kiss, and I know that I don’t get to control it. I just freaked out,” he told her.

 

“You weren’t the only one,” she assured him.

 

He scratched his head and gave her a small grin, “Yeah I guess not. Can I explain?”

 

“You don’t have to,” she assured him, not wanting to hear about how he was afraid that the evil succubus was going to corrupt the young virgin. 

 

“I want to,” he pressed though so she nodded. “After my mom passed away I was all alone. I mean I had Arya and everyone but, it was just me, you know? And I was okay with it. But then you came along and ruined it. You’re my family, El, the only bit I have, and I just got afraid that if something went wrong between you two that… you’d leave. And I _can’t_ lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive it.”

 

“You could never lose me,” she promised, tears flooding her eyes.

 

There was something about this place that made her blubber, she blamed it on the altitude.

 

“Good,” he nodded, “Because I love you, and I’m sorry.”

 

He had never told her that before and now the tears were really falling in thick heavy droplet. He crossed the remaining distance and took her into his arms.

 

He was so large and sturdy and she burrowed into him, letting out a sob.

 

“I love you and I’m sorry too,” she told him when the tears stopped.

 

“As I said, you’ve got nothing to apologise for. If you want to be with Stark, you should be,” he said.

 

“No um…,” she shook her head, biting her trembling lip, trying not to start crying all over again, “That’s okay.”

 

“But I thought -“

 

“He doesn’t want to be with me,” she said, wiping her face. “So good riddance, right?”

 

He looked at her like he wanted to argue but he nodded and brushed a tear off her cheek, “Yeah, El. Good riddance.” She smiled at him and nodded, almost believing it. “Well uh, I should let you practice - though you don’t really need it. That was incredible. And I am _something_ of a ballet connoisseur now.”

 

She giggled and kissed his cheek and went to restart the song.

 

“Hey El?,” he asked, she turned around and raised her eyebrow, “Do you want me to beat him up?”

 

“No thank you.”

 

“Alright, well could I take you to dinner on Tuesday? Just us. I was thinking we could make it a weekly thing like…”

 

“Like the Starks. I’d like that.”

 

He left with a promise to pick her up after class and she rehearsed her dance a few more times.

 

An hour and a half later she was tucked into her favourite chair at Alysanne’s bakery with a vanilla latte. She pulled out her book from her literature class, it was an 18th century tragedy, because the gods had a sense of humour.

 

It was very good and she allowed herself to get swept up in the dour castles and plotting advisors and tragic heroes.

 

At the exact moment she was getting a little hungry, a pastry was set down in front of her.

 

“Oh I didn’t order that,” she said, lifting her head from the book to look at the barista.

 

But it wasn’t the barista.

 

It was a gorgeous man with thick black curls and warm golden eyes, and an easy grin. The kind of grin that made you smile too.

 

“I know,” he told her, “You just look like a girl deeply in need of a chocolate croissant.”

 

“Trystane?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll still with me?


	10. Amongst Vipers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Those reactions to the last chapter! 
> 
> I'm so glad you are all invested in this story. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
> 
> A lot of people acted incorrectly in the last chapter, but as the writer, I will assure everyone that no one acted with ill intentions - though many were misguided. 
> 
> This chapter is going to be a bit of clean up in the aftermath of the last chapter, and then the story will continue focusing on the individual relationships more once again.
> 
> Oh- and the only thing I would mention, is please be nice to one another in the comments section. With so many POV characters, people are bound to see different things, and that's alright! I'm just glad you are all liking the story and care about them.

**Gendry**

 

Things kind of went back to normal. 

 

His and Ella's first dinner on Tuesday night had been great. They'd gone to a little Braavosi place where he knew the husband and wife who owned it. They'd been very taken with Ella and the wife had made her special spun sugar for her. They'd talked about things they'd never talked about before - like their father, and what it was like to be raised by him, and what it was like not to be.

 

She had been in better spirits than she was on Sunday. Something he'd learned about her was that she was never down for long. She had a talent for happiness and he was cheered to see her bright smile once again. 

 

He'd had a bit of a harder time with everyone else. Apparently he had been the only one who hadn't known about Robb and Ella. 

 

He'd never noticed it, the way they gravitated towards one another or the way Ella always moved towards the dance floor when Robb was flirting with some other girl. He hadn't noticed the way Arya had glared at Robb when he'd check out Ella or the way Ella would blush when Robb complimented her.

 

Everyone else had though, and no one had said anything. 

 

_"I thought you knew," Jon shrugged._

 

_"What like it's obvious?"_

 

_"Well...it is a bit obvious."_

 

When he'd stopped to think about it, Jon was right. Even still though. 

 

He wasn't entirely sure what he would have done if he had noticed. Robb was one of the best guys that he knew, one of his best friends in the world, and he knew he had a good heart. One of the best there were, really. And he'd been so gracious when him and Arya got together, and then again with Sansa and Jon. 

 

But even still, he'd never had a girlfriend. While Gendry had always known that the right girl was going to come along one day and turn his head he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted Ella being the test subject. 

 

That was moot though, because in the end it wouldn't be up to him. He could threaten to hurt Robb if he hurt her, but that was pointless as well because Robb was a big brother. He knew exactly what would happen if he hurt her. 

 

In the end though, it was nobody's decision to make except Ella and Robb. And Robb, apparently, had decided for both of them. 

 

They'd been forced to make up at rugby practice on Monday. 

 

_"Go on boys," Theon said, "If one of you wants to get a hit in, now's your chance. After this we squash it."_

 

_He thought about Ella's heartbroken sob the day before. He wasn't sure that Robb was the sole cause of it but he was definitely a contributing factor. But then again, so was he._

 

_"I said some things," Gendry said._

 

_"I deserved them," Robb shrugged._

 

They'd shaken hands and that had been that. They'd sat together in their politics class like always and grabbed drinks after practice on Thursday. Robb didn't seem quite himself, but they were fine again. 

 

He was sitting on a couch in the rugby house now with Arya and Ella as they were continuing a debate from their _History of Power_ course, which was a senior seminar that all Arryn Academy students had to take. He remembered Sansa loving it last year, and dragging Jon, Robb and Theon back into debating its themes and discussions. It was a well loved course and he had been surprised by the vehemence of the boys' arguments, a full year after taking the course. 

 

"I love you, but you're just plain wrong," Arya told Ella.

 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?," Ella argued good-naturedly. "You're thinking about this too _emotionally_."

 

"I've never been accused of that _in my life,_ " Arya said in mock horror.

 

They dissolved into fits of giggles and he wasn't entirely sure what in seven hells they were talking about but he didn't really care. Not when they were happy and together. 

 

"Alright, I think this party is over," Arya sighed as Ella texted. 

 

Ella looked up from her phone and grinned at him, "The Queen hath spoken," he chuckled at her, "Ooh but a friend of mine is on their way here. Can we just wait for them before we head on?"

 

"Sure," they agreed, "Who-"

 

"Oh there he is!," Ella exclaimed, hopping off the couch. 

 

They both turned to look where she was walking. Gendry's jaw dropped and so did Arya's.

 

He had always been interested in women. Exclusively. But, if there was ever guy who might convince him to make an exception he was pretty sure it was the one who Ella was walking towards. 

 

"Who in seven hells is _that_?," Arya sputtered.

 

"Goldie!," the man exclaimed in a jovial, booming voice.

 

He crossed the remaining few steps to Ella, as though he couldn't bear to wait for her any longer, and picked her up and spun her around. They shared some words, him still holding her, and they looked like a pair of young gods together. He said something to her that had her head thrown back laughing and she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he set her down.

 

She tugged him forward by the arm and brought him over to where he and Arya were sitting.

 

"Guys this is my friend Trystane," she said giddily, "Trystane, this is Arya and my brother, Gendry."

 

He'd never heard himself introduced as such. He felt a surge of pride as he stood up to offer Trystane his hand.

 

"As long as you're nothing like that shit Joffrey, we'll get along just fine," Trystane said with an easy grin.

 

He liked him already.

 

_***_

 

**Sansa**

 

"You did not!," Sansa giggled.

 

"She _absolutely_ did," Trystane nodded, throwing his arm around a blushing Ella, "I've never seen anything like it."

 

Ella rolled her eyes, "I was _eight._ "

 

"You were _magnificent_ ," Trystane grinned, "Seriously it took weeks to get the smell out of that room. Joff deserved it though, obviously."

 

Apparently when Ella was eight years old and her family was visiting Trystane's in Dorne, Joffrey, then eleven, had hit Tommen, only six. So in retribution, since her mother wouldn't punish Joffrey, Ella had made Trystane take her up to the stables to get manure and she'd cut a hole in Joffrey's mattress and inserted it. 

 

"And the _best_ part of the whole thing was that little Ella Baratheon, eight years old walked into my father's study unprompted and offered to pay the cost of a new mattress and the cleaning fees."

 

Ella grinned, "Well you know my family's saying, it was only proper."

 

Sansa and Arya giggled, imagining a little girl with blonde ringlets walking into Senator Martell's office and offering to write him a check. 

 

Apparently the Lannisters and the Martells were old friends, in the sense that they hated one another bitterly and actively attempted to destroy one another, and then once every few years they'd all spend a delightful month together down south. 

 

She'd known who Trystane was. _Everyone_ knew who Trystane was. He was the only son of Senator Doran Martell, and the nephew of playboy, Oberyn Martell. Trystane was rumored to look like his uncle but conduct himself like his father, which was preferable in both cases.

 

He was twenty one, the same age as Ella's older brother Joffrey, but there was no love lost between the two of them. That, according to everything Ella had told her about Joffrey, said only good things about Trystane. As did the way he seemed to look at Ella - like she was treasure that had long been lost and longed for.

 

"Alright, I can't stand this much beauty in one place without fortifications," Trystane said, gesturing to the three of them as he stood up, "I'm going to grab another drink. Can I get you all anything?"

 

They all shook their heads no and he walked away with promises of a quick return. They watched him go in silence and then she and Arya set upon Ella.

 

" _Seven Hells_ , Baratheon, you really know how to bury the lead, huh?," Arya asked. 

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ella said primly, "We're just old family friends is all."

 

"I wish _I_ had family friends that looked like that," Sansa sighed.

 

Ella and Arya looked at her blankly, small smiles on their faces.

 

"You do," Ella said.

 

"Who?," Sansa wondered.

 

" _Jon_ ," Ella pointed out with a grin. 

 

"Your _boyfriend_ ," Arya added with one of her own. 

 

Sansa blushed, covering her mouth in a giggle. _Of course. Jon._

 

She wondered where he was and then she realised that she'd promised to play beer pong with him. On her way over though, Ella had introduced her to Trystane and he'd said _"Goldie's told me so many wonderful things - come sit, I have to know you."_

 

It had seemed rather _rude_ not to sit down and answer all of his questions. Though, perhaps, so was not hanging out with her boyfriend while drooling over another man. On Ella's behalf of course.

 

She was about to tell them that she was going to find him when Trystane came back. He leaned over the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around Ella's neck gently. 

 

"Goldie, Willem Bracken is here, do you remember him?," he asked her.

 

Ella's face lit up, "I haven't seen Billy in ages!," she then turned to her and Arya, "Do you guys want to come meet him? He's _wild,_ you'll adore him!"

 

"I'll come!," Arya nodded and stood up with Ella. 

 

"I'm going to go find Jon," Sansa said.

 

"Who?," Arya and Ella teased in tandem. 

 

Sansa stuck her tongue out at them and walked away, into the back room where Jon was hanging out with the guys as well as some of the others from the rugby team. 

 

"I was just about to send out a search party for you," Jon told her with a grin.

 

"Sorry, I got held up," Sansa evaded. 

 

She didn't want to get into where she'd been, not with Robb there. He didn't need to hear about how charming Trystane was or how very good he was at drawing out the blush that drove him wild. 

 

Last weekend was starting to feel like some 17th Century tragedy, with plot points that could have easily been avoided with proper cell phone usage. If Robb had only answered her calls before he'd gone to see Ella, he might have made a different choice, and then it would be him making Ella brush so prettily right now. 

 

_"Robb! Where have you been?," Sansa asked as she let him into her dorm room._

 

_"I walked over to Arryn Academy and back," he said, coming in and kicking off his shoes._

 

 _"That's miles away," she said uselessly._   _He knew that, he was the one who just walked it._  

 

_He crawled onto the bed and leaned his head against the wall. She crawled on and sat next to him, stretching her legs out._

 

_"I broke her fucking heart, Sansa," he said, his voice cracking, "Just like everyone said I would."_

 

_"Not everyone," she said softly. "I never said that. I never thought it either."_

 

_She felt tears stinging her eyes. She could never take it when he was upset._

 

_"Turns out you're the fool," he laughed harshly, "Never would have seen that one coming."_

 

He had told her everything. About his conversation with Arya. Going to see Ella and how he'd handled it all wrong. 

 

She didn’t understand why everyone was making such a fuss. She understood at the beginning, when everyone just thought he was attracted to her. It went so far beyond that now though.

 

She had started seeing a change in Robb's behavior weeks ago. He'd stopped leaving parties with various girls and he was never on his cell phone texting. She'd been with him when he had blown off Grace Smallwood, who had been an actual lingerie model over the summer, with little more than a smile and a shrug.

 

She knew it all had to do with Ella. Robb probably thought he was doing it on purpose, trying to clean up his game. But Sansa had seen him, there was no struggle, no hesitation. He just wasn't interested in anyone else. 

 

_"You love her," she pointed out._

 

_"What does that matter?," he asked._

 

_"No, Robb. You don't understand what I'm saying. You love her, when have you ever hurt someone you love?," she asked._

 

_"This morning, with Arya," he pointed out._

 

_"Besides that," Sansa rolled her eyes._

 

_She was annoyed at Arya to say the least. She knew it was difficult, the division of loyalties. She knew she wanted to protect Gendry, after everything he’d been through, but she couldn’t quite forgive her for interfering with their brother’s first real chance at love. Robb would never interfere with something that could make either of them happy, their relationships with two of his best friends were proof of that._

 

_"What's your point?," he asked her._

 

_"My point is, Robb, that she's right - you were a coward, you should have fought for her. More importantly, you should have thought better of yourself."_

 

_"Where were you two hours ago?"_

 

_"Calling you… And throwing up a little. But mostly calling you."_

 

“Is Arya still fawning over that guy?,” Gendry asked and Sansa fought the urge to glare at him.

 

The guys all turned to look at her curiously. Gendry, Arya, Ella and Trystane had come to this party ahead of them, because the boys were finishing a _very_ important game of darts (in which Theon stood directly _in front of_ the dartboard while Robb tried to get the dart in the same number again and again). So none of them had met, or even seen, Trystane yet to her knowledge. Gendry had though, and knew why he was here.

 

She didn’t think he was doing it to be an asshole, she had no illusions that he wanted to hurt Robb, he didn’t have a vindictive bone in his body, but even still, it was careless. And that was its own brand of hurtful.

 

She shrugged and said vaguely, “Ella was introducing her to an old friend.”

 

“She hot?,” Theon asked.

 

Sansa couldn’t help but giggle at his one track mind. The way he winked at her though told her that he knew exactly what he was doing - and she loved him for that.

 

This lead the guys to rag on him about Lyssy Bulwer, who he’d been shacking up with all week. It appeared that Theon was infatuated with her, and had been sneaking off to her warm bed at all hours of the day and night.

 

Sansa liked Lyssy, who was a friend of Margery’s and a girl she knew peripherally because of the boys. She wasn’t like some of the other girls that hung around Robb and Theon, she wasn’t catty or stupid. She was pretty, with olive skin and big brown eyes, and had a voice that was famous on campus for its ability to bring boys to their knees. And she was kind, which Sansa knew mattered more to Theon than he’d ever admit.

 

As the chaos descended, Jon, her anchor, pulled her close to him.

 

“He’s sad,” he told her, looking at Robb sip his beer, nodding at whatever Theon was saying.

 

“I know,” she nodded.

 

“Is she?,” he asked.

 

“Dreadfully so,” Sansa nodded, thinking of Ella’s bright giggle and the way she looked at Trystane, all the while insisting they were just friends, “She’s happy in a way that you only ever are when you’re well and truly heartbroken.”

 

***

 

**Arya**

 

She was finally getting a glimpse of the girl Ella must have been down south. _Goldie_ , they called her.

 

_“It’s not about her hair,” Trystane shook his head when she accused him of being unoriginal, “It’s who she is - the Golden Girl - it’s who she’s always been.”_

 

Ella shone brightly here in the mountains, her personality bubbling from her as thought she couldn’t quite help it, but she could tell that the girl she was here dulled in comparison to the one she left behind. That there was a part of herself still partying on a yacht off the coast of Dorne that hadn’t really made the trip north with the rest of her.

 

Until of course, Trystane Martell and Willem ‘Billy’ Bracken appeared.

 

The boys looked very straight laced, in their pressed button downs and heirloom watches, but Arya could tell they were the sort of wild that would rival Theon on his worst (or best) days.

 

They were both gorgeous. Trystane was large, over 6’2, with a broad chest and shoulders and warm olive skin and golden eyes. Billy was a bit shorter, though only barely, with sandy brown hair and green eyes.

 

Those green eyes hadn’t stopped looking at her for the past half hour.

 

Ella snapped in front of his face, “Oi, Billy - she’s dating my brother.”

 

“ _Oi?,_ ” Trystane asked with a grin, “Wherever did you learn that one?”

 

“Me,” Arya admitted.

 

Trystane chuckled and shook his head, his eyes wandering over Ella in her fuzzy white turtleneck as though he couldn’t quite believe she was here, and as though her adopting northern slang only made her all the more alluring.

 

Ella giggled and wrapped her arms around her neck, pressing her cheek against hers.

 

“That’s right, from my _sister-in-law_ ,” she cooed.

 

Arya couldn’t help but giggle against her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She and Gendry were nowhere near married, but if they ever were then she’d get to be sisters with Ella.

 

 _There’s another way you two could have become sisters_ , a nagging voice in her head told her.

 

She ignored it and listened to the story Billy was telling about his summer in Braavos. She’d always wanted to go, there was an elite fencing competition there every year that she was desperate to place for next year, but more than that, the city looked so beautiful, and she loved the food.

 

“Have you ever been?,” Billy asked her.

 

“No,” she shook her head, “I’ve always wanted to though.”

 

He grinned at her. His grin should be illegal. There were dimples that appeared in his right cheek and his dusting of freckles made him look far more innocent than she knew he must be.

 

“I’ll take you sometime,” he told her, proving her point.

 

“Bracken!,” Ella scolded with a grin, making Trystane chuckle and shake his head. “Leave her alone.”

 

“Oh mind your own business, El,” Arya teased.

 

The grin died on Ella’s lips and her green eyes flicked to her. Arya had never felt quite so measured from a single look.

 

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Ella said, a flash of anger or hurt making her kind green eyes violent for a moment. Burning like wildfire.

 

It was gone in the next moment but so were Ella’s arms around her neck. Arya didn’t miss the look shared between Trystane and Billy but she didn’t really care about that - them.

 

“I think I’d like another drink,” Ella said, her voice had taken on a forced quality, as though she was trying to convince them or herself that everything was very perfectly alright. “Can I get anyone anything?”

 

“How about some company?,” Trystane asked.

 

“I’d never turn away a handsome escort,” Ella teased, “There are wolves lurking about after all.”

 

If Robb and Jon had been there, she probably would have let out a howl. But they weren’t, so she stayed silent, and watched as Ella hooked her arm through Trystane’s as he lead her through the party.

 

People turned to look at the pair of them as they walked through. They looked perfect together. Nearly too perfect.

 

“Sickening, isn’t it?,” Billy asked. She raised her eyebrow at him and he went on, “That two people could be so gorgeous and wealthy and kind. They’re a tragedy waiting to happen.”

 

“That’s awfully cynical,” Arya pointed out.

 

She had to get away from him and find Gendry. She’d never cheat on him, she loved him, but there was something unnerving about Billy. Something that made her feel vibrant and beautiful and just a little bit dangerous.

 

And the truth was, there was nothing quite like a gorgeous, cynical boy.

 

He grinned that dimpled grin again and sighed, “He’s been in love with her since she was six years old. And now she’s within his grasp. The gods are never that kind.”

 

 _Sometimes they are,_ she thought, thinking of Jon and Sansa.

 

Jon had always loved her beautiful older sister, even when he used to take Arya’s side in their fights. He used to pick wildflowers for her and had taken her to homecoming, over his girlfriend of the time Ygritte, after her boyfriend had cheated on her.

 

He had been worthy though. He was brave, and gentle, and strong. And his tragedies had all come before Sansa, so maybe that was why the gods gave her to him. The way they sometimes bestowed gifts upon those who had completed their divine tasks.

 

Trystane did not seem like one accustomed to tragedy.

 

“And Zeus is after her,” she mused aloud without realising it.

 

She thought he might look at her like she was crazy, but he looked at her like she’d looked at Ella when she had told her that. When she was trying to determine if she was a loon or if she simply knew something the rest of them didn’t.

 

“That’s right,” he nodded, “Has been for years. I can’t remember what she did to earn his ire though.”

 

“She saw him for who he truly was,” she recited.

 

“A dangerous thing, that,” Billy said. His green eyes appraised her, drinking her in and he said, “But even still, Arya Stark, I’m desperate to know, who are you, really?”

 

“No one,” she heard herself say coyly.

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

“OHHH!,” he called as Sansa made yet another shot in beer pong. “We are kicking your ass.”

 

“ _She_ is kicking our ass,” Theon corrected.

 

Jon chuckled and wrapped his arm around Sansa’s shoulders. It was true, she was carrying the team, but he didn’t care. He loved when his girly girl girlfriend kicked the boys’ asses, which she always did whenever she competed with them in anything. Darts, beer pong, poker.

 

She had a disciplined body that did what she told it to and a shrewd mind, along with an otherworldly calm that never responded to the goading that made them all act recklessly.

 

Theon took a shot and made it and Jon picked up the cup so that Robb couldn’t make it in the same one and started to drink. The beer was warm and he was taking on the lion’s share of drinking it. Sansa hated beer, so she was taking a sip of her vodka soda every time Theon or Robb made a shot.

 

Robb went to go take a shot and Sansa wrapped her arm around his shoulder. She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

 

“ _Guess what I’m going to do when you take me home_ ,” she cooed in that way of hers.

 

His body reacted to her immediately, his pants starting to feel just a little bit tighter and his heart beating wildly.

 

“What?,” he prompted anyway though.

 

“I’m going to finish the lemon cake you bought me,” she giggled.

 

He chuckled, she could be such a little minx. They’d only been having sex for about a week, but in his estimation they had gotten pretty good at it. She’d always been irresistible to him, but he found it harder and harder to be away from her now. He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

 

Before he could pull away she grabbed him by the shirt and whispered in his ear, “ _And then I’m going to fuck your brains out._ ”

 

_Seven Hells._

 

He’d have to get her out of here shortly. Everyone else was here to have fun with their friends, of course, but mostly to find someone to take home. He knew who he was taking home, tonight and every night, and it sometimes seemed like an awful waste of time leaving the house at all.

 

“Sansa, this must be the famous Jon!,” a guy said, drawing Jon out of his thoughts.

 

He turned to look at the person approaching, and found an obnoxiously good looking guy walking towards them with Ella in tow.

 

Ella shot him a look. He’d never seen her like that, frightened. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why either. Not with Robb standing across the table from him. She had no intention of flaunting the fact that she was with someone else, though it was well within her rights to do so.

 

“El,” he said, stepping forward and pulling her away from the guy. “Where’ve you been?”

 

“With me I’m afraid,” the guy said, “I’m Trystane.”

 

“Jon,” he nodded at him and gestured to his friends at the other end of the table because it would be rude not to, “That’s Theon and Robb.”

 

“Robb?,” Trystane asked, his jaw clenching.

 

“That’s me,” Robb answered in a cold voice.

 

Trystane pulled Ella back to him, throwing an arm around her shoulders protectively. As though _they_ were the dangerous ones. Jon didn’t fail to notice the way she relaxed against him, as though he was right.

 

He couldn’t blame her. Not after what Robb had said to her. Not after what he’d done. Robb was the best guy he knew but he’d been an absolute idiot.

 

Fear could do that to a person and nothing scared Robb Stark quite like how much he cared about Ella Baratheon.

 

Ella was not the only one with an aching heart, he knew, but she didn’t.

 

Trystane looked at Robb like he wanted to say something, but Ella started to pull him away, citing the need to get back to their friend Billy.

 

Jon didn’t like that. He didn’t know who the fuck Billy was but _they_ were her friends. Him and Theon, even Robb before it all went wrong. They were the ones who she should be looking towards for protection.

 

Though considering that they’d all helped her get her heart broken, he couldn’t really blame her for not.

 

“El, can I talk to you for a minute?,” Robb asked.

 

“No man,” Trystane said, standing in front of Ella, “I think you’ve said enough to her, don’t you?”

 

Robb stepped forward. He never backed away from a challenge and Trystane was one big challenge.

 

Robb puffed out his chest. They were the same size, more or less, and he knew if it actually came to blows that Robb could take him, but he was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Then they’d well and truly lose her.

 

“I think she’s capable of making her own decisions,” Robb said.

 

Ella laughed harshly. It was a broken laugh, that suggested she might just be holding back a sob, and Jon’s heart ached for her.

 

It was that which made Robb step back. Not Trystane’s presence or obvious anger. That little laugh, that said, _Since when?_ that hit Robb harder than anything.

 

“El,” Robb said softly.

 

She held her head high and didn’t look at any of them. Not at Sansa who looked like she was about to cry, or Theon who looked like he wanted to lock her in a room away from all of them and make her laugh for real, until she forgot that pain existed, or at him, who with one word would take her away from all the boys who ever wanted anything from her.

 

“Two minutes, Trystane,” Ella said finally, “Go find Billy and I’ll catch up with you in two minutes.”

 

Trystane looked like he desperately didn’t want to leave her, but with one more threatening glance at Robb he was gone.

 

Robb and Ella walked away too and he, Sansa and Theon let out a collective sigh.

 

The game was over.

 

***

 

**Robb**

 

It didn’t allude him that this was the same house where he and Ella had first spoken about their feelings for one another. Not as they walked down the same hallway.

 

When they got near the end of it, she stopped and turned to him. She didn’t say anything, she just waited.

 

 _You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?_ he wanted to ask her. But he couldn’t.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said.

 

“I know,” she told him. “You already said that in half a dozen text messages and two voicemails.”

 

He’d written and deleted a dozen more and had picked up the phone to call her even more times than that. He’d even gotten in his car to go over there one night, but he’d ended up just driving around instead.

 

“I know, but…,” _I love you_ , “I mean it.”

 

“I never doubted that you did,” she told him.

 

She never failed to give credit where credit was due. Everything was a net game with her, she took the good and the bad and held you to account for both.

 

“But you didn’t come to our house to predrink,” he said, realising how asinine that sounded. How trivial it made it all sound.

 

“Because believing that you are sorry and forgiving you for what you did are not the same thing,” she pointed out. She let out a heartbroken little noise, he’d never heard anything like it and it beckoned his own. “What do you want from me, Robb?”

 

“I-I dont know, I don’t know I just - _fuck_ I keep messing this up, don’t I?,” he asked.

 

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her that question and he felt a sense of vertigo, remembering that day at Alysanne’s, when it all still felt hopeful. When she was just a beautiful girl that he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

 

“Why are you still trying?,” she asked. “I don’t understand. I gave myself to you on a _silver platter_ and you said _no_. And that’s fine, it really is, but now you don’t get to get me in halves. You don’t get to expect me to come around and be at your apartment fawning over you - I am not a tool to stroke your ego with. I do not exist to make you feel wanted.”

 

He felt like he was being punched in the gut over and over again. The idea of anyone making her feel like that was like a physical ailment to him, but the fact that it was him who had done it made him more ashamed than anything ever had.

 

“I know,” he promised in a quiet voice, trying to hold back tears. They wouldn’t be the first he’d cried this week, but it was different, sitting on Sansa’s bed, safe in her dorm room and here, in front of Ella. “I know you don’t. I just… can’t stand the idea of you hating me.”

 

“I don’t hate you I _lo-_ ,” she started and let out a single sob. She stepped away from him and turned around. He could see her taking deep breaths and he took some of his own. When she turned back around her face was a porcelain mask. “You really do have a knack for making me blubber.”

 

“Ella, please,” he pleaded, taking a step towards her, but even he didn’t know what he was requesting of her.

 

“No,” she denied anyway.

 

She walked away from him and he let her go. It was the smartest decision she’d ever made.

 

He waited a minute and then wandered back through the party. He was going to grab his coat and leave. The music was too loud and everyone was too drunk and the only person he wanted to be with had just left, probably on the arm of another.

 

“Robb Stark,” a breathy voice said.

 

He turned and saw Grace Smallwood closing the distance between him. She had been his foremost crush last year, but when she’d finally expressed interest this year he was already gone for Ella.

 

“Hey Gracie,” he said.

 

“You were very mean to me,” she pouted.

 

He’d used to found that pout irresistible, but now he just found it petulant and spoiled.

 

“Was I?,” he challenged with a bit more bite than he should have.

 

“Mmmhm,” she nodded, stepping closer to him, her fingers reaching out to touch his chest, “But I’ll let you make it up to me.”

 

_Ella, please._

 

_No._

 

“Let’s get out of here, huh?,” he asked her, wrapping an arm around her small waist, “I’ve got a few ideas on how to make it up to you, but I’m open to suggestions…”

 

***

 

**Myrcella**

 

The party seemed more crowded than it had a minute ago. She was surprised, in the back of her head, how many people she knew, but she just wanted them all to go away.

 

“Goldie!,” Billy called, “We’re heading to the sailing house.”

 

“No, I need to go,” she shook her head.

 

Arya stepped forward to take her hand but she knew that if she did she would just start crying. She was so sick of crying.

 

“I’ll take you,” Trystane offered.

 

 _Sweet Trystane_.

 

She’d known him since she was a child. She remembered stormy summer nights when Joffrey had tried to convince him to cause trouble, but he’d stayed behind to play cyvasse with her.

 

She had forgotten that he went to Vale when she came here. She knew, distantly, but hadn’t seen him in some years, and had gotten so swept up in everything with Gendry and then Robb and everyone.

 

He felt like a lifeline though, to the girl she used to be. That girl was stronger. Happier, too.

 

“Okay,” she nodded.

 

He grabbed their coats and took her out into the cold night air. The house was just off of campus and they crossed onto it. It was almost possible to see the cold under the hazy glow of the old fashioned street lamps.

 

The leaves had all fallen but the campus was no less beautiful now, and the brick buildings stood tall and proud as Vale’s students cackled drunkenly into the night.

 

“You were right,” she told him. “I shouldn’t have spoken to him.”

 

“What did he say?,” he asked.

 

“That he was sorry.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

She giggled in spite of herself. It felt so good to laugh just for the sake of it, not trying to prove anything.

 

“I still don’t get it,” he sighed.

 

“What’s there not to get?,” she wondered. She’d explained everything.

 

“Someone having a chance with you, and throwing it away,” he said softly, stroking her cheek.

 

She stepped away from him. Away from his earnest golden eyes.

 

“Don’t do that,” she pleaded, “Don’t use this as an opportunity to hit on me.”

 

“I wasn’t,” he said quickly. She fixed him with a look and he grinned his movie star grin. “Okay, _I was_. But even still, it doesn’t make it untrue. You know I mean it. And I’m good for you, Ella. You know I am.”

 

He wasn’t wrong. He was like her own special happy pill, and she could feel the effects as soon as she was in his presence. He had such broad shoulders that made her not feel like a burden, and a way of looking at her that warmed her insides.

 

“But I’m not over him,” she warned him, “And that isn’t fair to you.”

 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he told her, stepping forward and taking her hand, “And shouldn’t it be my decision? It’s my heart on the line after all.”

 

That hit her like a punch in the gut. Isn’t that what she’d been trying to explain to Robb? To everyone?

 

How was she any better if she denied him the agency she herself was begging for?

 

“You’d take it slow?,” she wondered.

 

His grin was easy as the took the hand in his and placed it on his shoulder, taking the other one and starting to dance with her. He was an easy partner to follow, having been an escort at many cotillions, and she allowed him to rock them back and forth.

 

“I’ll take it as slow as you want, Goldie,” he promised, “I’m used to waiting for you, after all. I’ve been doing it since I was nine years old.”

 

He didn’t say it to make her feel guilty. Just to explain.

 

She laid her cheek against his chest, and he brought the hand holding hers against his chest as well, turning in a small circle.

 

“This is awfully cheesy,” she said with a grin.

 

“No,” he said in a low voice, she felt his chest rumble at the timber of it. “Kissing you, on the other hand, that _might_ be cheesy.”

 

She looked up at him. He really was stunning, his golden gaze like molten caramel, his strong nose and luscious curly black hair. And he was good, always had been.

 

And he wanted her, and wasn’t afraid to tell her so.

 

“I’ll risk it if you will.”

 

The soft press of his lips against hers spoke louder than any words.


	11. What if the wolves come?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one!

**Gendry**

 

“Hey Arya, it’s Gendry again. Your um… well your boyfriend. I… thought we were going to study last night? Anyway… I’m sure you’re meeting Sansa and Robb now but uh… call me later, k? I miss you, m’lady.”

 

He shoved his cell phone in his coat pocket and beeped his horn. A moment later Ella glided out of her dorm, down the narrow path and opened the passenger seat.

 

“It’s _bonkers_ out here!,” she exclaimed with a toothy grin, “Have you ever seen snow like this?”

 

He chuckled, “Yeah, through about March of last year. You’ll get used to it.”

 

“I hope not,” she said, taking off her hat and shaking the snow off of it, “It makes me so happy. I’d hate to get _used_ to it.”

 

It was surprising that it had taken so long to snow. It was already the second of December. Usually by mid-November they’d had a flurry or two, but that month had been full of freezing rain that had kept them all indoors.

 

The snow that had fallen that day had rejuvenated the campus, and there had been couples walking arm in arm and snowball fights. In truth, it had turned them all into children once again.

 

“I hope you don’t either,” he said.

 

He pulled away from the curb and drove slowly through campus. The roads weren’t terrible yet, but by tomorrow they would be. He’d see if she needed to run any errands before he took her home tonight, because classes would most likely get cancelled tomorrow and he didn’t want her driving. She had probably never driven in the snow and he’d learned last year that it wasn’t so easy.

 

“So, Gendry…,” she started.

 

“Yes, Ella?,” he prompted.

 

“The Winter Showcase is next Monday,” she reminded him, which was silly because he had already bought tickets and marked it on his calendar. “And well… I just found out… that my uncle is coming to see it…”

 

“Your uncle?,” he wondered.

 

He knew she had four uncles, two on her mother’s side and two on the Baratheon side. She liked three of them, but trusted only one.

 

“Uncle Jaime,” she nodded, “My mother’s twin brother. He has business up here and when he called to see if he could take me to dinner, I had to tell him about it. And anyway, I just… if you didn’t want to come I’d understand.”

 

“Would it be easier for you if I didn’t?,” he wondered.

 

He knew that Ella was not on good terms with her family at the moment. Her mother, in particular, but the rest of the Lannisters had fallen in line. Even her little brother, the sweetest of them all.

 

If this was an olive branch, he did not want to be the one to burn it.

 

“No!,” she shook her head vehemently. “Of _course_ not. I want you there, I… I really want you to be there, but I’d understand if you would be uncomfortable.”

 

It probably would be a bit uncomfortable, though it wasn’t like he would have to sit with him. He had been planning a dinner for Ella afterwards, him and Arya, Sansa, Jon, Theon, Trystane. Maybe even Robb. But he supposed that could wait until the next night or the weekend. Or maybe when she got her acceptance to the Vale. Hopefully it would be the same day as Arya’s and they could all celebrate.

 

“I’ll be there, Ella,” he told her, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

She wiggled in her seat and clapped her hands together.

 

“And don’t worry, Trystane will sit with him and handle everything,” she assured him.

 

“They know each other?,” he asked.

 

“Very well,” she nodded confidently, “Uncle Jaime adores him.”

 

 _He’s not the only one_.

 

It appeared that Ella had fallen quite quickly for Trystane. The pair spent most of their time together, and there was always laughter surrounding them. It was as though they floated when they were around one another, as ridiculous as it was to say.

 

She spent less of her time at the boy’s apartment than she had before, which he supposed was understandable. Arya did too though, having fallen in quickly with Trystane’s group of friends.

 

Sometimes he’d show up to a party with the boys to find the girls already there, holding court amidst a rowdy group of preppy guys.

 

“Did you and Arya have fun on Saturday night?,” he wondered.

 

He’d gone to a rugby party to celebrate the end of the season, but Arya had gone to some costume thing with Ella at the sailing house.

 

“I stayed in on Saturday,” Ella sighed in annoyance, “I had a huge paper to write. I thought Arya went to the rugby party with you?”

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

“What is it, exactly?,” Arya asked, peering over her shoulder.

 

“It’s beef stew!,” Sansa exclaimed, “Like nanny used to make…”

 

She caught the glance between her brother and sister and sighed, dropping the mixing spoon in annoyance.

 

“I’m sure it will be _great_ ,” Robb said with a meaningful glance at Arya. “Really great.”

 

“Me too,” Arya said loyally, “It smells good anyway.”

 

Sansa couldn’t help but smile at the praise. It really did smell good. She’d never made it before, or anything like it, but with the snow falling today she was in the mood for something other than pizza. The snow always reminded her of home and she wanted something else that did too. More than that she wanted something that would remind Robb and Arya.

 

Things had been a little strange in the past month or so. There was a bit of a distance between the Stark siblings that she was neither familiar with nor fond of.

 

Strangely enough it wasn’t Robb who was causing it. He’d urged her not to be angry with Arya, stating that she was just looking out for Gendry and Ella and hadn’t done anything to be cruel.

 

She knew that, but she couldn’t quite forgive Arya for the lack of faith in their big brother, who only today had picked her up from her art history class, a peppermint hot chocolate for her in hand. 

 

It was Arya though, who had been distant. She was spending a lot of time with Ella and Trystane, choosing to predrink at Trystane’s house than the boys’ apartment. Sansa too had spent some time there. Trystane’s group of friends was fun, really fun, and she and Ella had gotten terribly close in the past couple of months. She missed her around the boys’ apartment and she couldn’t really blame her for not spending much time there. Not that she didn’t try to convince her.

 

_“Please, just for a drink,” Sansa said as she stood in her closet and tried to figure out what to wear._

 

_“You go, I’ll meet you at the party,” Ella told her, sitting in front of her mirror as she did her make up._

 

_“It’s not the same without you,” Sansa pouted, “It’s just me and the stinky boys.”_

 

_Ella giggled, “You love those boys.”_

 

_“Is it that hard?,” Sansa wondered aloud. “Seeing him.”_

 

Ella’s silence had told her everything she needed to know.

 

Arya though didn’t have the excuse of a broken heart. She was just following the best party, it seemed. Which was fine, everyone went through a faze like that. It was just the timing of it all really.

 

She was about to start pouring the soup into bowls when she heard the door to the boys’ apartment bang open. She knew it wasn’t Theon or Jon, the former was at Lyssy’s and the latter was studying at the library. She supposed it could have been the storm but she didn’t think it had gotten that bad yet.

 

“Ella,” Robb breathed out, as though a ghost was standing in his presence.

 

“I’m sorry I trie-,” Ella started and Sansa turned around to see what she’d have to apologise for.

 

“Where the _fuck_ were you on Saturday night?,” Gendry asked Arya.

 

“I was at the sailing party with-,” Arya started.

 

“With who?,” Gendry challenged, “Because unlike what you told me, Ella wasn’t there.”

 

Sansa met Ella’s eyes, which were widened in fear.

 

“What’s the big deal?,” Arya asked, “I went to a party with some friends.”

 

“The big deal is that you lied about!,” Gendry yelled at her. “And you used my sister to do it.”

 

Arya chuckled harshly. It was a sound Sansa had never heard from her, from way back deep in her throat and it sent shivers up her spine.

 

“You just couldn’t wait any longer, could you?,” Arya asked Ella, her voice like gravel.

 

“Excuse me?,” Ella questioned.

 

“You’ve been waiting to get me back for Robb for over a month now!,” Arya railed at her.

 

“No,” Ella shook her head, “I haven’t. In fact I think I, and from what I’ve seen, _Robb_ have both been tremendously understanding. Because we knew you weren’t ill intentioned. But this? You lied to your boyfriend, my _brother_ , about where you were and you used me to do it and you didn’t even bother to _tell_ me.”

 

They all stood in silence in the truth of that statement. Sansa had been wondering for weeks, how Ella could be such good friends with Arya after what she did. But that was it right there, with Ella, _intentions_ not actions were what mattered to her.

 

Robb was just the same.

 

“This is bullshit,” Arya growled, like a cornered animal.

 

She fled then, hardly bothering to grab her coat before slamming the door.

 

Gendry rubbed his face and turned to Ella, “You were right. I shouldn’t have come.” Ella rubbed his arm, looking up at him sympathetically. “But I’ve got to go talk to her. Sansa can you take her back?”

 

“Of course,” Sansa nodded.

 

She’d borrow one of the boys’ car. It would give her and Ella a chance to talk a bit.

 

Gendry ran out after Arya and left her, Ella and Robb standing in the kitchen.

 

“What in Seven Hells happened?,” Robb asked.

 

“I guess Arya went out on Saturday night and told Gendry that she was going out with me, but I was in the library all night working on a paper,” Ella explained. “I…I didn’t _know_ that she told him that, or I… well honestly, I don’t know what I would have done. But I wasn’t being spiteful.”

 

_Even though you have every reason to be._

 

“We know that,” Sansa nodded, “And Arya does too, deep down. She just lashes out when she knows she’s in the wrong.” Robb gave her a look and Sansa gave him one back, “You know it’s true.”

 

Robb sighed and nodded, he couldn’t deny it. He looked over at Ella who was still standing there in her winter coat and hat and mittens. Her cheeks still pink from the cold.

 

“Did you eat?,” Robb asked her, “We have plenty…”

 

Ella looked at him like he was offering her his last bit of water when they were stuck in the desert. Like that simple gesture was proof of every ounce of love he felt for her. And in a way it was.

 

But she backed away as though she might get scalded.

 

“Thank you, but that’s alright,” she said politely, “I’ve already ruined your evening enough, I’ll just be a minute.” With that she took out her phone and dialled, taking off her mittens as she did. Sansa noticed that her hands were shaking slightly. “Hi Trystane… I’m fine… Gendry just got caught up… anyway could you come get me? No…I’m at the boys’…yes he is…See you soon.”

 

She didn’t have to guess about who Trystane was wondering about. But she also couldn’t help noticing that Ella didn’t resist answering. She wasn’t about to cover anything up.

 

“I would have taken you,” Sansa told her futilely.

 

“I know,” Ella smiled, “But this way your food won’t get cold. Plus Trystane loves to play the hero, it gives him a little thrill.”

 

Her eyes went wide as though she couldn’t quite believe she’d said that in front of Robb, and that right there was proof that there wasn’t a spiteful bone in her entire body.

 

“So are you looking forward to the Winter Showcase?,” Sansa asked, trying to keep things light.

 

Ella nodded, “I’m _horribly_ nervous but I’m looking forward to it being over. I found out today that my Uncle is coming, which is nice I suppose.”

 

“Oh how lovely! Does he need someone to sit with?,” Sansa wondered.

 

She imagined it would be a bit awkward for Gendry to sit with him, but there was no reason that she couldn’t. Ella had entertained her Uncle Benjen when he visited back in October, sitting with him at a rugby game since she and Arya both had tests at the time.

 

Ella shot a wary look at Robb but smiled warmly at her and said, “That’s so sweet of you. Trystane has it covered, but thank you.”

 

“He really is perfect, isn’t he?,” Robb asked her.

 

_Don’t do this, not this way._

 

The pair of them stood there staring at one another. Sansa wanted to flee, but she couldn’t abandon either of them. Not when their hearts were so vulnerable.

 

“No, he isn’t,” Ella shook her head, they all heard the car horn beep and she put her mittens back on. She waved at Sansa and turned to leave, but paused briefly before she did, “I was never looking for perfect.”

 

***

 

**Arya**

 

She didn’t make it very far. She knew she wouldn’t.

 

No sooner had she gone to cross the road to get onto main campus than Gendry was pulling up beside her. He rolled down his window.

 

“Get in,” he told her.

 

“No,” she shook her head.

 

“Damn it, Arya, its nearing a blizzard! Get your ass in the fucking car,” he growled.

 

The snow had changed since she’d been at the boys’ apartment. It was falling in thicker clumps now, more quickly too. He was right, before too long no one would be able to be on the roads.

 

She didn’t want to add him getting in a car accident to her list of sins so she got in.

 

He pulled away from the curb and started driving down the familiar streets to get back to Arryn Academy.

 

“Did you sleep with him?,” he asked her.

 

“Who?,” she evaded, which was just about the stupidest thing she could have said.

 

“ _Who?!_ ,” Gendry railed at her. “Do you need me to narrow down the fucking list? Have you been that fucking busy?”

 

“Don’t speak to me that way,” she growled at him.

 

“Don’t _act_ this way then,” he growled back.

 

“The fact that you would even ask -“

 

“No. Absolutely not. You don’t get to play the victim here, Arya.”

 

“I’m not playing the victim!”

 

“Yes you are, you played it in _there_ with Ella. You _used_ her to lie to me and then you accused her of conspiring against you. Do you have any idea how _crazy_ that is? Do you have any idea how _guilty_ that makes you look?,” he railed at her.

 

He had a point. That hadn’t been fair. But she was suffering from a guilty conscience and it was enough to make a person go mad, to make a person see things that weren’t really there. She wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t crazy.

 

She’d never really understood the poem A Tell-Tale Heart before the past month or so. But every time she was around Ella or Robb she heard it, _ticking_.

 

“I’m sorry! Okay?,” she asked. “I… wanted to go to the party and I _thought_ Ella would be going. So when I told you last week that we were going together, I wasn’t lying. But then she had this paper and… and I didn’t want to miss it!”

 

“But you knew on Saturday,” Gendry reminded her. “You lied to me. For no reason.”

 

“Not for no reason! I didn’t think you’d -“

 

“What? You didn’t think I’d what? _Let_ you? I’m not your fucking keeper. I’ve never tried to control where you go or who you’re friends with or anything because I’ve got no right to, but more than that because I _trusted_ you. Don’t act like I’m some fucking tyrant, Arya.”

 

He was right. He’d never cared, he never got jealous. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.

 

“I didn’t sleep with him,” she told him.

 

“Who?,” he challenged.

 

“Billy! Billy Bracken, alright? I didn’t _fuck_ him, I didn’t even kiss him. Though I could have.”

 

“What do you want? A metal for not? If you’re _proud_ of yourself for not cheating on me then we’ve got bigger problems than you lying to me.”

 

“Stop twisting my words!”

 

“I’ve gotten pretty good at twisting your words these past couple of weeks. Twisting them, inventing them out of thin air. That’s what happens when you aren’t around to participate in the conversation.”

 

“Stop being overdramatic,” she spat at him.

 

“Stop treating me like shit,” he spat back.

 

“I don’t. I…call you every other day and we see each other a few times a week and…”

 

“For fucks sake you make it sound like a job! Is that what this is? Because if that’s what it is then maybe we shouldn’t-“

 

“Pull over!”

 

“What?”

 

“Pull over the fucking car, Gendry!”

 

He pulled over and locked the doors, “You’re not walking home in this, you’ll freeze to death.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

 

She unbuckled her seatbelt and crossed the distance until she was sitting in his lap, straddling him. She kissed him fiercely.

 

He pushed her away gently, “Stop it, that’s not going to fix anything.”

 

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” she lied. She kissed him again, forcing his lips open so that her tongue could move against his the way she knew he liked. He responded to her this time and she gripped his shoulders. “Does that feel like a job to you?”

 

“Shut up,” he ordered her, pulling her face back to him and kissing her.

 

As always he was like a shot of whiskey and what had started as an attempt to end the fight, to stop him from saying something he’d regret, had turned into the heady desire she always felt when they were close like this.

 

She’d been such a fool. What were a pair of green eyes against _this_? How could she have risked this? Him?

 

“I love you,” she told him, kissing his neck and his jaw and his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Shut up,” he ordered again, but he was pushing her coat off of her and kissing down her neck, “Just shut up.”

 

“Make me,” she challenged.

 

And he did.

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

“Sweet girl?,” Jon knocked on his bathroom door. “Are you ready?”

 

“Just a minute,” he heard Sansa call.

 

He looked towards the living room to see Robb and Theon looking at him. He shrugged and walked towards them, finishing off his beer.

 

They were meant to go to some party at the sailing house. He wasn’t particularly keen but Gendry had asked. He’d heard about the fight earlier in the week, so he hadn’t had the heart to say no. Even if he did find Trystane’s friends pretentious.

 

It wasn’t that they were bad guys. They weren’t, really. They were just different. He and Robb and Theon all had trust funds just like they did, but there was something about these guys that made you _know_ it just by looking at them. It wasn’t even their fancy clothes or watches worth more than most cars, it was just in the way they carried themselves.

 

Sansa liked them though. According to her, Trystane was an absolute _sweetheart_. And that had to be true, because no one wanted Ella to be with Robb more than her, so she had no desire to like him. Though he knew that his sweet girlfriend would have tried for Ella’s sake anyway.

 

Sansa came out of the bathroom and smiled at him a bit grimly. She looked pale as well.

 

“Are you alright?,” he asked, crossing to her. He felt her forehead and she felt clammy but not feverish. “Are you sick?”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “I think the wine just hit me wrong,” she said, though her glass was still nearly full. “Are you guys ready?”

 

“Yeah Dovey,” Robb nodded, grabbing her coat for her.

 

Robb helped her into it as Jon grabbed the bottle of whiskey and vodka they were bringing. There wouldn’t be a dearth of alcohol, but he didn’t like showing up empty handed.

 

The snow had settled from earlier in the week and the campus had somehow kept its pristine quality even after days of students trudging through.

 

They crossed the campus and Sansa hooked her arm through his, leaning her chin on his shoulder.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright?,” he asked.

 

“Promise,” she nodded, “I think you guys have the heat up too high though in your apartment. The fresh air feels _marvellous_.”

 

“It’s Theon, he claims he has poor circulation,” he scoffed.

 

Sansa giggled and he grinned at the sound of it. Robb turned as well and smiled at them, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

“You good, man?,” he wondered.

 

Robb opened his mouth to say something but Theon said, “Heads up. OI BEAUTIFUL!”

 

“HULLOOO,” Ella called to them.

 

They all turned to look at her. She was on Trystane’s back, wearing a white hat and mittens with her light blue coat. She looked like a snow angel.

 

“CUUUUTE shoes,” Sansa cooed when they got close.

 

“Cute and _painful_ ,” Ella giggled, wiggling her legs.

 

“Poor you!,” Sansa lamented.

 

“Poor _Trystane_ , I think you mean,” Ella grinned, “He has the unlucky task of being my chauffeur all night.”

 

Trystane rolled his eyes and Jon knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing that he’d be thinking if he was giving Sansa a piggyback ride. That _unlucky_ wasn’t even a word that should be used in the same sentence as his name. That he was the luckiest bastard that ever lived and that if the girl on his back never felt like walking again it would be his greatest honour to take her anywhere she wanted to go.

 

So really, he couldn’t hate the guy. Even if loyalty demanded it.

 

They all headed towards the party together. Sansa fell into step with Trystane, and he heard Ella and him laughing as Sansa gestured wildly. At one point Trystane stopped and doubled over, Ella nearly falling off of him he was laughing so hard. Jon didn’t fail to note that Robb quickened his pace as though he might grab her, only to stop short when Trystane placed his hand on Ella’s butt to steady her.

 

“Can we fucking get there already,” Robb grumbled. “I need a drink.”

 

Robb got his wish because they arrived at the party a few minutes later. It was already in full swing and they waved to Arya and Gendry who were dancing together, fused together more like it. Their fight, it seemed was long forgotten and Jon had to turn away as they started making out.

 

“Can I get you guys a drink?,” Trystane asked courteously, “Ella wanted a martini if anyone’s interested.”

 

“No man, we’re good thanks,” Theon answered for all of them and Trystane nodded and walked away.

 

“He’s her fucking bitch,” Robb said.

 

Jon couldn’t deny it. Trystane was _whipped_. But then again, so was he.

 

“Yeah well, you’d eat out of her palm too if she’d let you,” Theon pointed out.

 

“Fuck you!,” Robb growled.

 

“No, fuck _you_!,” Theon growled back. “I’m so sick of this woebegone shit. You fucked up, man. You got scared and we get it but for the love of the gods, just go get her or get _over_ her.”

 

“Dude…,” Jon warned.

 

“Don’t act like you’re not thinking it,” Theon challenged.

 

“It’s not that simple,” Robb argued. “I made promises.”

 

“You made _a_ promise,” Jon corrected, “To Arya. Who… I love more than my own life but who hasn’t really had a leg to stand on as of late. She might not have cheated on Gendry, but she hasn’t really been acting like a girl in love with her boyfriend. Even if she had been though, I don’t think she should get to dictate who you date.”

 

“That’s not the only-“ Robb started, but stopped as a gorgeous girl came up to them.

 

“Hi handsome,” she said to Theon, “I’m Myranda. I’ve heard _a lot_ about you.”

 

“Yeah well,” Theon said with an aw-shucks grin, “You can’t believe everything you hear.”

 

“Well how about I get you a drink and we sort fact from fiction?,” she offered, pressing up against him.

 

His and Robb’s eyes met, both planning their escape. To his surprise though, Theon backed away from her.

 

“Sorry Myranda, I’m just hanging with my boys tonight,” Theon said, though he didn’t seem sorry at all. “Have a good one.”

 

The girl walked away dejected and he knew that his face matched the look of shock on Robb’s.

 

“What was _that_?,” Robb asked, like his whole world was shaking.

 

Theon scoffed, “I couldn’t do that to Lyssy. She trusts me. And besides, who needs _that_ girl when Lyssy Bulwer exists?”

 

Jon knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t like girls didn’t approach him, they did. Apparently he was _mysterious_ , though the truth was he just didn’t like most people and he hated small talk.

 

He hardly even saw them though, only enough to reject them as politely as he could. It didn’t matter if Sansa was in the next room, or across campus in the library, or visiting her parents. He’d never do anything to hurt her, and he’d never wanted anyone but her.

 

Even still, it was nice, seeing Theon grow up.

 

Jon looked over at Robb to share in the moment of their little boy becoming a man, but Robb wasn’t looking at him. He followed Robb’s gaze to where Ella was sitting on a couch in between his sisters. She was whispering something in Sansa’s ear that had her in tears she was laughing so hard as she nodded.

 

Something told him that Robb knew exactly what Theon meant too.

 

***

 

**Robb**

 

Robb stood outside of the auditorium on Monday evening. It was freezing, but he’d been out there for the last half hour, trying to work up the courage to go in.

 

He hadn’t been planning to come, even though everyone had invited him. Well, not everyone. Ella hadn’t, and her invitation was the only one that mattered.

 

She had never asked him _not_ to come, she’d never do anything like that. Even still, it was obvious. Though they hardly spoke anymore, he felt like he knew her better than ever.

 

He knew it would be considered creepy by anyone’s standards how much time he spent thinking about her. Worse, was how much time he spent watching her.

 

He couldn’t help it, she was her own gravitational force. When she was in a room he didn’t see anyone else, didn’t care about anyone else. Her laughter was like a dog whistle to him, and the look of her and the smell of her set his veins on fire. She hardly met his gaze anymore, but when she did he felt it everywhere.

 

It did not allude him how much of the time she was in Trystane’s company. He did not fail to see how wide her grin was when Trystane came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. He had watched as Trystane gave her a piggyback ride on Saturday night and after a while how she’d laid her cheek against his shoulder, probably closing her eyes, perfectly at ease.

 

But that didn’t bother him quite so much.

 

Because he also noted the falseness in her laughter sometimes and the way she always liked a crowd around them. The way that sometimes on those rare occasions that he did catch her eye she’d leave a party shortly afterwards as though she couldn’t bear to stay. The way that sometimes he could feel her eyes on him when he chatted up another girl.

 

She treated him like a wild animal. Someone to keep her distance from but her eyes on all the same. Someone unpredictable and dangerous.

 

 _When you do fall in love,_ Margery had told him, _It might just kill you_.

 

He had a feeling that like in this, as in so many other things, he and Ella were exactly the same.

 

He opened the side door and walked in before he could change his mind. He knew Sansa had saved him a seat, but he couldn’t watch with all of them. He couldn’t stand the pitying looks.

 

He had hooked up with a girl briefly his junior year who was the star of Arryn Academy’s drama department, so he knew his way around the auditorium very well.

 

Backstage was alight with activity, there were dancers and singers and actors. There was a comedian onstage, he heard the crowd laughing at whatever he was saying.

 

He couldn’t help but grin at the commotion. Vale was one the top universities in the country but there was something about the way Arryn Academy crammed so many talented, driven students into one place that never failed to amaze him. He’d loved going to school here, and though he’d never pursued anything in the arts, he’d never missed a Winter Showcase. It was fun guessing the girl who’d get a recording deal right out of high school and the guy who’d be accepting the award for Best Actor within a decade.

 

He dodged an old teacher and went to the side of the stage, hiding behind one of the curtains. The comedian was just finishing up. He was eager, fresh, used all of his limbs at once. The crowd was laughing though, which was all that mattered.

 

He finished his punchline that made Robb chuckle and bowed as the audience gave him a polite applause.

 

He stood back up and said, “Alright, lords and ladies, the moment you’ve all been waiting for - whether you know it or not. The beautiful, the talented, Miss Myrcellllllaaaa Baratheonnnnnn!”

 

With that he ran off the stage and the lights went out completely. When they turned on, Ella was there, dressed in a simple cream leotard with a matching tutu. Her blonde hair was up in an intricate bun, her elegant neck and slim body on full display.

 

_Seven hells._

 

He remembered the first time he’d seen her in her leotard. He had nearly stopped breathing. Everyone thought he was admiring her body and he was, he couldn’t not, but it was her grace that threatened to knock him off his feet. The juxtaposition of her elegance and strength that made him dizzy.

 

She set about in her dance, and though he knew nothing about ballet, he could tell that it was difficult. The music was beautiful and classic, lilting in sympathy with her movements.

 

You could never tell by looking at her face that she was exerting herself. It was the picture of calm. A serene, close mouthed smile on her face. Her eyes closed every so often and opened like she was coming out of a dream.

 

She was utterly mesmerising.

 

He wanted her. He couldn’t deny it. And that fact alone told him everything he needed to know. Because in spite of going home with Gracie Smallwood and Lilly Manderly and even Beth Royce he hadn’t been able to sleep with a single one of them. He had tried, _they_ had tried, but he couldn’t.

 

And it was all her fault.

 

At first he had thought he hadn’t been sleeping around to try to be worthy of her, but in the past few weeks, when he owed her nothing, when she wanted nothing for him, he found that he was incapable of it.

 

And then he’d seen Theon turn down that girl Myranda. _Theon Greyjoy_. More of a womaniser than he could ever dream of being. A playboy or a douchebag depending on who you asked. And he denied her because there was a girl waiting for him who he refused to let down.

 

He’d realised then what a fool he’d been. He’d known over a month ago that Ella wordlessly demanded he be better, but what he hadn’t realised was how easy she made it.

 

 _You love her_ , Sansa had said, _When have you ever hurt someone you loved?_

 

He never thought about being there for Sansa and Arya, never struggled with being a brother worthy of them. Or a friend worthy of Jon or Theon.

 

It was as easy as breathing being worthy of the people who you loved. All you had to do was let them love you back.

 

And he’d never loved anyone the way he loved Ella Baratheon.

 

Her dance ended and a hush fell over the crowd. You could hear a pin drop, and she stood there, her arms elegantly over her head, a broad smile on her face.

 

He started clapping, and for a moment she turned to look in his direction, as though he had a dog whistle of his own, but then the audience was on their feet and the applause was thunderous.

 

********

 

**Myrcella**

 

She was still smiling when she got back to her dressing room. The applause had been unlike anything she'd ever heard, even at the Fall show. It was invigorating and she'd seen the Director for Vale University’s ballet company there, on his feet with everyone else. 

 

She sat down at the chair in front of her mirror. She'd need to change in a moment for dinner with Uncle Jaime and Trystane but she knew the closing number was about five minutes and then it would take a while for everyone to make it out. 

 

She heard a knock on the door and her grin turned wider. It was probably Trystane, she'd seen him holding a big bouquet of flowers and he found her particularly irresistible in her ballet clothes. So he said anyway. 

 

She opened the door and had to actively resist the urge to slam it back shut.

 

"Robb," she said. 

 

She hadn't seen him in the audience, which was fortunate. She wasn’t entirely sure that she would have been able to make it through without stumbling if she had.

 

"Ella," he returned, "Can I come in?"

 

He was standing so close that she could smell him. That intoxicating combination that was particular to him. 

 

She stepped away from him and he took it as a sign to enter, which she supposed it had been. He was the one to close the door behind him, she would have left it open. 

 

"I didn't see you in the crowd," she told him. Maybe talking would help. 

 

"I didn't buy a ticket, I wasn't going to come," he explained. 

 

"Why did you?," she wondered.

 

They'd hardly spoken in the past month and a half, he didn't owe her anything.

 

"Because self-flagellation is too messy," he said with a pained chuckle. She turned to look at him and his blue eyes found hers. He was so indescribably handsome, with his red pouty lips and square jaw, his thick mop of russet curls. "That was so beautiful."

 

"Thank you," she said as politely as she could. 

 

"Here," he offered, extending his hand. 

 

For a moment she thought he just wanted to take her hand, because it was all she could see, but then she saw that he was offering her a flower. 

 

It was unlike any that she'd ever seen. It was a rose, certainly but larger and fuller than any she'd seen in real life, and it was the most vivid color of blue. 

 

"What is it?," she asked in wonder, reaching for it gently. "It's extraordinary."

 

"It's a winter rose," he told her, "They only grow here and up north. But they remind me of you."

 

"Cold?," she wondered. 

 

"No," he stepped forward. Now he did take her hand and she found herself giving it. "Beautiful, and rare, and _strong_."

 

"Robb...," she tried to demure, but his thumb was tracing over her pulse point and she knew he could feel how fast it was racing.

 

"I was such a fool," he pressed on, "I didn't have enough faith in myself, or in you. But everything's different now. I'm ready."

 

That hit her like a bucket of cold water and she wrenched her hand away from him. 

 

"I haven't been waiting for you!"

 

"I - I know, but Ella its you and me, we're -"

 

“Nothing,” she said in a stoic voice that she hoped hid the stubborn thudding of her heart.

 

"Don't say that. You don't mean it,” he pleaded, trying to reach for her again.

 

"There it is!,” she stepped away from him, putting as much distance between them as possible in the little room. She pointed at him, like she was accusing him of treason, “You're lying - you don't think I'm strong. You don't even think I'm strong enough to know my own mind, to know my own heart! How low is your opinion of me?"

 

"I have the highest opinion of you! I know how strong you are - how strong this mind of yours is,” he had crossed back to her and cupped her head in his hands, “Strong enough to control your heart even."

 

"I'm protecting it," she told him, "There's a difference."

 

"But you don't have to,” he said, his hands moving down to stroke her cheeks, “I'll keep it safe, I promise."

 

His earnest blue eyes were begging her to believe him.

 

"I don't believe you."

 

"Ella please, just…,” he let her go and paced. He turned to her, his jaw set. “You don't love Trystane you -"

 

"Stop telling me how I feel!,” she raged at him. She couldn’t stand to hear him say anything bad about Trystane. “Trystane is good and strong and he cares about me more than anything.”

 

He looked at her, with something akin to triumph in his eyes, “I never doubted _his_ affection. And I’d point out that nowhere in that list did you mention loving him back.”

 

Why did everything have to be so serious? Why did it have to be _love_? She was only eighteen, why couldn’t it just be nice, and fun, and _safe_?

 

"We've only been dating for a month,” she pointed out.

 

"And I've only known you for three. But I love you all the same,” he told her. He told her like it was nothing. Like it was obvious. Like the ground wasn’t shaking beneath her.His eyes turned sympathetic and he said, “You’ve known him your whole life, Ella. And maybe the girl you used to be could have loved him back. Maybe she was even meant to. But you aren't that girl anymore."

 

"Because of you?,” she challenged.

 

“Yes!,” he raged and there was no sympathy now, only fiery conviction. “Because of me! Because you love me! And that's what love does, it _changes_ you. It's changed me."

 

_That’s rich._

 

"I don't know Robb,” she scoffed, crossing her arms, feeling herself on firmer ground, “It seems like you've been up to your old tricks again."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?,” he questioned.

 

"It means I've seen you - leaving parties with girl after girl, flirting with this one in the library and that one in the quad,” she said spitefully.

 

_How many? How many girls have you taken into your bed? Is my picture still on your desk? Do they wonder who I am? Do you tell them I’m just a friend of your sisters’?_

 

Now there was definitely victory in his eyes. He was practically grinning at her, and his stance was predatory. He looked positively wolfish.

 

“Tell me, El, does Trystane know what close tabs you’re keeping on me? What’s the matter, _Goldie_ , he can’t hold your interest?,” he challenged her.

 

"You are such an arrogant prick!,” she spat the bile at him from the shame deep in her belly.

 

Before she knew it she was in his arms and his lips were on hers. Her veins were like electric currents, crackling with a dangerous energy. From the force by which he grabbed her she would have expected his kiss to be almost harsh, but it was gentle, soft and reverent and patient in spite of everything.

 

She’d tell herself later that she didn’t kiss him back, and maybe she didn’t. But she let herself be kissed, she didn’t step away, didn’t even think about it. Couldn’t think about anything except the overwhelming sensation of being in his arms again.

 

"I may be an arrogant prick," he said softly when he released her lips, his arms still wrapped around her, "But I’m the guy for you, Ella Baratheon. You already know that, you’ve known it all along. When you’re ready to admit it, I’ll be around. ”

 

With that he left her. She got changed quickly with shaky fingers and went to the lobby of the auditorium. 

 

"Myrcella!," a familiar booming voice shouted.

 

"Uncle Jaime!," she cried. 

 

She jumped into his arms and he held her as though she weighed nothing at all. He felt so strong and sure and she remembered how he used to threaten to fight the monsters lurking under her bed holding an umbrella like a sword. 

 

"Myrcella?," he asked in concern, "Are you alright?”

 

She hugged him tighter, "I just missed you."

 

"Oh darling, I missed you too," he sighed, squeezing her tightly before setting her down. "That was such a lovely performance."

 

"Thank you," she said, "For coming."

 

"My pleasure, gave me a chance to catch up with old Trystane here,” he said and she grinned at Trystane who planted a kiss on her lips, “I'm trying to convince him to intern for us this summer, which of course his father will never forgive me for but..."

 

"But you don't care," she supplied with a grin and they both chuckled. 

 

"El?," she heard a voice behind her. 

 

She turned and saw Sansa, Arya, Gendry, Jon, Theon and Lyssy. 

 

"Hey!," she said, grabbing Sansa first and then Arya. 

 

Jon picked her up and swung her around and Theon twirled her before Lyssy pecked her on the cheek.

 

Gendry was last and she stepped forward and gave him a big hug. 

 

"Thanks for coming," she said. 

 

"Wouldn'tve missed it," he assured her.

 

"Do you want to meet him?," she wondered. 

 

"Not really, but I suppose I better," he said lightly and she giggled and pulled him forward.

 

"Uncle Jaime, these are all my friends, and _this_ is my brother, Gendry."

 

"Gendry," Uncle Jaime said, "My niece has told me a lot about you. She says you look after her."

 

"I do my best," Gendry nodded, "But she's a stubborn little thing."

 

She fought the urge to step on Gendry's toes because Uncle Jaime was grinning.

 

"She is at that," Uncle Jaime nodded, holding his hand out, "But I appreciate you trying. I'm taking her and Trystane to dinner, can you join us?"

 

"Oh uh...," Gendry started. She tried not to look at him hopefully, but he caught her eye anyway and nodded, shaking Uncle Jaime’s hand, "Yeah. That'd be great."

 

She thanked everyone again for coming and they all walked out towards the parking lot. She hopped in with her Uncle Jaime to give him directions and Trystane and Gendry went to their cars. 

 

If it had been her mother, she would have used the time alone to pester her about where things were going with Trystane and why she was wasting her time with that wretched bastard and how she hadn't gotten high enough on her leaps. But it was Uncle Jaime, so they talked about a little bit of everything, nothing of much importance, and she slowly felt her heart rate return to normal.

 

When they showed up to the restaurant Trystane and Gendry were already there. They were in high spirits, the two of them though very different got along very well, and had already ordered a bottle of champagne for the table. 

 

She took the seat next to Gendry, shooting an apologetic look at Trystane. He only winked at her and took control of the conversation. 

 

"So Jaime, Gendry and I were just discussing his position on the recent Frey deal," Trystane said.

 

"Is that right?," Uncle Jaime asked. "And what did you think of my father's decision?”

 

Gendry glared at Trystane who gave him a _go ahead_ gesture. 

 

"I... well.. um... I'm sure your father knows what he's doing... but... I think it was a shit decision."

 

"And why is that?," Uncle Jaime asked, his voice like ice.

 

"Well I studied the Frey's company last year as a case study and their position is weak. They aren't adapting the way they need to and Walder Senior is so paranoid that he isn't letting his sons into the running of it, he isn't even naming a successor for fear of being ousted. The old man's gotta be what? ninety five? Hasn't been in his right mind for the past decade at least. So I think you're looking at a new partner that is very soon going to be a liability, if they aren't already. Plus, I'd look into some of their activities in the Riverlands. Not sure it's above board."

 

"But you're sure my father knows what he's doing," Uncle Jaime said sarcastically. Gendry maintained eye contact with him though Ella was pretty sure she could hear his heart beating. She was so focused on him that the sound of Uncle Jaime's laughter made her flinch. She turned back to look at him and he said, "Maybe Trystane isn't the one I should be hiring this summer. Tell me Gendry, what are your internship plans?" 

 

*

 

"I think that went just about as well as it could have," Trystane said as he drove her home.

 

"Thanks to you," she said with a grin, turning in the passenger seat of his sports car to look at him. "Have I? Thanked you?"

 

"About a dozen times since we said goodbye to them," he grinned, "But you don't have to thank me, Goldie. I'm your boyfriend, _it's what I do_."

 

She hoped he didn't take Uncle Jaime up on his offer. His father wanted him to be a diplomat, and she knew that he was right. He had the proper temperament and charm, he read _everything_  and had the ability to see all sides of an issue with very little exertion. He was a natural peacemaker as well and fluent in at least four languages.

 

They stopped at a red light and she ran her hand down his arm.

 

"What about kissing me? As my boyfriend, is that also something you do?," she teased. 

 

He grinned and closed the distance, pressing his lips to hers. It felt nice, he was a marvellous kisser, and the world often melted away when their lips met. 

 

It wasn't quite working tonight though so she deepened the kiss, her hands running through his soft curls, sucking his bottom lip. 

 

A car honked behind them and he pulled away from her, stepping on the gas once again. 

 

“You will be the death of me,” he warned good naturedly, "I swear I'm nearly about to crash the car."

 

"Don't do that," she chided with a grin.

 

"You drive me wild, Goldie," he said, his hand squeezing her thigh. 

 

A jolt of pleasure went through her at the touch and she wanted more of it. That was the sort of thing that could make her forget about everything else and right now, all she wanted to do was forget.

 

"Take me home," she ordered.

 

"That's what I'm doing," he answered in confusion.

 

"Not to the dorms," she shook her head, "To your place."

 

"Ella are you sure?"

 

"Don't you want to give me the chance to thank you properly?"

 

He didn't answer, he just grinned and stepped harder on the gas.

 

***

 

_Meanwhile…_

 

“Well?,” she asked impatiently.

 

“He seems like a very nice boy,” Jaime said into the phone.

 

“What is that to me? Is he? Robert’s?”

 

“Undeniably. He’s the spitting image for one thing and has a certain… belligerence about him for another,” Jaime sighed.

 

“That could have come from his whore mother…”

 

“Cersei,” Jaime sighed, rubbing his forehead.

 

It had been a long night, laughing at all of those Martell boy’s stupid jokes. Pretending to care about his internship and his plans for the holidays.

 

“And Myrcella?”

 

“She seems quite taken with him,” Jaime said.

 

“ _Which one?”_

 

“Robert’s boy. The Martell will be gone come springtime.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Positive. Something had shaken her… and she had a rose in her hand. It wasn’t from Trystane.”

 

“For the love of the gods they’re multiplying.”

 

“She was always going to inspire this reaction in men. She’s your daughter, after all.”

 

“We have to get rid of him.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“Robert’s boy. If Robert’s brothers bring him into the fold it could ruin all of our plans.”

 

“Myrcella will fight us on it. She loves him, Cersei. He’s her brother.”

 

“You and I both know that isn’t true.”

 

“Cersei! We agreed she was never to know…”

 

“And she won’t… if you handle this properly.”


	12. There's still time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to just two POVs in this chapter, hope to post the others tomorrow.

 

**Gendry**

 

Gendry walked into his politics lecture and took his usual seat in the third row next to Robb.

 

Robb was always early to everything - classes, practice, everything. It had become a game amongst the freshman, trying to beat their captain to practice. None of them ever did.

 

“What’s up?,” Robb asked as Gendry took his seat.

 

“Nothing,” Gendry practically growled.

 

“Seems like nothing,” Robb nodded as he made his heading on his laptop.

 

_Political Thought: Morality Vs Ambition 12 December 2018._

 

Gendry chuckled harshly. _Morality vs Ambition_. That did seem to be the theme of the day.

 

“It’s Jaime Lannister,” Gendry told him.

 

Robb turned to look at him and said, “Yeah…Jon and Theon mentioned last night that you were going to dinner with him. Was he a dick?”

 

“No,” Gendry shook his head, and then he thought about it, “Well yeah, I mean he definitely _is_ a dick… but he wasn’t to me.”

 

Robb nodded, “That must have been frustrating. I’d imagine it’d be easier to hate them all. You still can, you know.”

 

Gendry sighed, “I know. And yeah… I know it’s terrible because of El but I really want to hate them.”

 

It was hard to hate anyone when they looked at Ella the way her Uncle Jaime did. He looked at her like she was the only beautiful thing in a world of shit. It was kind of the way Ned Stark looked at his kids, particularly his girls, like they were redemption for all the sins of others.

 

“That’s fair, man. They’ve been putting Ella through _hell_ this semester, and we all know the Lannisters aren’t good people. Even Ella thinks her mother knew about you all along.”

 

As far as Gendry knew, Ella hadn’t been speaking to her mother since October. His sister had told him sometime back in November that she’d transferred here not only against her mother’s wishes, but also her express orders. Ella was using her Baratheon trust fund because her family was still paying tuition at her boarding school down south, hoping she’d transfer back.

 

All because of him.

 

And then Jaime Lannister showed up on a white fucking steed _(_ it was a black Jaguar actually), and extended olive branch after olive branch.

 

“Yeah but… her Uncle Jaime isn’t her mother,” Gendry sighed, “I mean… I know he’s a dick. I know he is. But he just kept _thanking_ me for looking out for Ella.”

 

“Just because he loves her, doesn’t mean he’s not a dick,” Robb pointed out, then smiled self-deprecatingly, “Just look at me.”

 

“Nobody thinks you’re a dick,” Gendry argued, “Except maybe you.”

 

“You uh… wouldn’t say that if you knew what I did yesterday,” Robb said.

 

“Oh you mean how you went to Ella’s dressing room and gave her a flower?,” Gendry guessed.

 

Ella had been off last night. He’d expected that she would be overjoyed to see her Uncle, and she was, but there was something in her eyes, something false in her laugh. And then there was that winter rose. The Starks loved winter roses.

 

“Did she tell you?,” Robb asked.

 

Gendry chuckled, “No. Of course not, but she was especially attentive to Trystane, which she always is when you get under her skin.”

 

“So it backfired,” Robb nodded, “Serves me right.”

 

“Yeah it does,” Gendry allowed, “For _waiting_ so fucking long.”

 

“WHAT?!,” Robb practically yelled at him. Seriously, people turned to look. “You’re okay with it?”

 

“Yeah,” Gendry told him, “Have been since the afternoon after I first saw you kissing her. I was in _shock_. And really fucking hungover, and I hardly knew her then, I was so scared of losing her. And yeah I mean, I was a little worried about her being your first girlfriend but… I don’t know, I trust you. I trust her. This isn’t the dark fucking ages, I don’t control my sister’s… _suitors_. If I did though…”

 

“Yeah?,” Robb prompted.

 

“She wouldn’t be dating Trystane Martell.”

 

Robb smiled and shook his head as their professor came in. He was no nonsense, a real ball buster actually, but brilliant. The kind of professor you couldn’t afford to block out for even a moment because it could be the time he spouted off the answers to all the world’s mysteries.

 

“People are bad,” he started.

 

Now was not going to be the time, apparently.

 

“I know what you’re thinking. _Obviously_. The world is filled with terrible people. People who are greedy, people who litter. People who take taxis from someone who needs it more than they do. People who murder. People who wear fedoras. _Strong overlap there_. So I understand it isn’t _radical_ to say such a thing, but perhaps this is. Not all bad people are bad. Some bad people are good.”

 

Robb glanced over at him and he shrugged. There was a rumour their professor sometimes got high before lectures. He’d always suspected it was started by students who hadn’t done well in his class but now he wasn’t so sure.

 

The lecture went on and ended right about where it started. Gendry wasn’t sure that he had learned anything except that human beings were terrible, greedy and selfish, and that through something similar to luck, some of that selfishness leant itself towards the greater good.

 

_It’s amazing the good people will do when they think they might just get credit for it._

 

Not exactly groundbreaking.

 

He and Robb packed up their things and pulled on their coats.

 

“Why is it that courses always tend to tie in to the exact problem you’re facing?,” he asked Robb as they walked into the cold winter air.

 

Robb stopped walking and asked, “What do you mean?”

 

Gendry sighed and pulled out his phone, opening up his email.

 

“It wasn’t just that he was nice to me at dinner,” Gendry told him.

 

He handed Robb his phone and waited as he read the email.

 

“Is this for real?,” Robb asked, his brow furrowed. “For… for _three months_?”

 

“Yep,” Gendry nodded, “He wants to pay me $100,000 for a three month internship.”

 

“What are you going to do?,” Robb asked him.

 

Gendry shook his head, “I don’t know… I’m not… I’m not _like_ you guys. I’m on scholarship, and an RA for the free housing… I mean I’m _fine_ but… that money in the bank could really…”

 

“Change your life,” Robb sighed. He scratched his jaw and said, “I guess the only question is… why would Jaime Lannister want to do that?”

 

*******

 

**Sansa**

 

Sansa wiped her mouth and came out of the bathroom. Her roommate, Jeyne was pulling on her snow boots and looking at her warily.

 

“Damn Stark, that’s the third time you’ve thrown up this morning. You pushed it a little hard for a Monday night, huh?,” she asked.

 

“I didn’t drink last night,” Sansa protested, crawling back into bed. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

 

“Ew, okay,” Jeyne sighed, “I’ll come back after Econ and pack a bag. I’m going to stay with Matt until you’re better.” Sansa nodded, pulling the covers up. Jeyne didn’t _do_ sickness, or comforting. It just wasn’t who she was. Her friend paused on her way out though and said, “Do you need anything? Apple juice? Seltzer? Pregnancy test?”

 

“Fuck you!,” Sansa chuckled, tossing one of her pillows at her.

 

Jeyne closed the door giggling and Sansa grabbed her computer. She didn’t have class this morning anyway, and a bit of vomiting surely earned her a couple of episodes of Maze of Lords.

 

_Sansa: Kit and Alayne are definitely ending up together._

 

_Jon: Good morning to you too._

 

_Jon: And what? No they aren’t. They are brother and sister._

 

_Sansa: Cousins, Jon. It’s like you don’t even pay attention when we watch._

 

_Jon: That’s because you’re always there._

 

_Jon: What are you doing watching Maze of Lords anyway? I thought we were going to the gym this morning._

 

_Sansa: As delightful as running in place sounds, I’m coming down with something._

 

_Jon: I knew you weren’t feeling well this weekend. Do you want me to take you to the clinic?_

 

_Sansa: No, it’s probably just a bug or something._

 

_Jon: Okay, well do you need anything? Apple juice? Seltzer?_

 

Pregnancy test… Sansa filled in her mind, grinning at what a bitch her roommate was.

 

_Sansa: I’m okay. I think I just want to sleep a bit._

 

_Jon: Alright, love. Get some rest. I’m going to come check on you after Devs though, okay?_

 

_Sansa: If I call you Kit it’s just because I’m delirious._

 

_Jon: You’re a nut. Love you._

 

Sansa cozied up further in bed. Jon’s Devs class didn’t get out until noon, so she had plenty of time to sleep and take a shower before he got here.

 

She pulled up her email app to send notes to her professors, letting them know that she’d be missing class that day and promising to get the notes from someone else.

 

She scrolled through, making sure there was nothing of importance. There was a long email from Bran that she’d have to read when she was feeling a bit better. One from her mother with her itinerary for their vacation over Winter Break.

 

She was really looking forward to Dorne. Jon was coming and they’d already been making plans for an overnight trip just the two of them. They’d have to convince her parents but she was pretty sure they could. They loved Jon, and had been so happy when she’d told them they were together.

 

She started writing one of her emails with the subject line _Courtly Love - December 12th_.

 

December 12th… _can it really already be December 12th? That would mean -_

 

She nearly jumped when she heard a knock on her door. She rolled her eyes, getting out of bed. Jon was so predictable.

 

She opened the door and said, “You just couldn’t- _Ella?_ ”

 

Ella was standing there in her light blue coat and white hat and mittens. Her face was bare and her cheeks were pink from the cold.

 

“Hi, I’m sorry to just drop by,” she said.

 

“That’s okay, you never have to call. You know that,” Sansa assured her, “What’s going on?”

 

She stepped aside to let Ella into her room, but her friend made no move to enter. She was fidgeting, which was odd because Ella never fidgeted.

 

“I slept with Trystane,” Ella said.

 

“Oh!,” Sansa exclaimed stupidly, “How wa-how do you feel?”

 

“Great!,” Ella said brightly. Sansa looked at her, trying for a smile, but the light had dimmed from Ella’s eyes. Her face crumbled, “I’m great.” She nodded, the first tears welling in her eyes, “I’m great.”

 

Sansa pulled her into her arms, “I know.”

 

Ella let out a sob and Sansa just kept holding her. Ella kept promising that she was okay even as she cried and Sansa kept agreeing with her.

 

Her heart broke for her. Sansa’s first time had been perfect. It had been with Jon, the only boy she’d ever loved. The only boy she _would_ ever love. He had been caring and gentle and passionate and even when it hurt it had still felt so incredibly right because it was _him._

 

She was sure that Trystane would have treated Ella nicely, he was besotted with her and a total gentleman. But that didn’t change the undeniable fact that she had lost her virginity to the wrong person.

 

Nothing could change that, so Sansa just hugged her.

 

When Ella’s cries subsided she pulled away and wiped her face. She didn’t say that she was sorry. Two months ago she would have. She hated displays of emotion - negative emotion anyway. Somewhere though, up in the mountains, she had grown comfortable being vulnerable. With a limited group of people that is, and Sansa knew that she was at the top of the list.

 

Sansa wanted to ask her more about it, to see if she wanted to talk about it, but when she opened her mouth an overwhelming feeling of nausea came over her.

 

She covered her mouth and ran into the bathroom, retching pitifully.

 

When she was finished she stood up and brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face. She reentered her bedroom to find that Ella had closed the door and was fluffing her pillows for her, and that the little electric tea kettle had been turned on.

 

“You poor thing, are you sick?,” Ella wondered, stepping forward and pressing her small hand to her forehead.

 

She was so different than Jeyne, who couldn’t have gotten out of here fast enough at the first sign of illness. Jeyne wasn’t the sort of person she could confide in, but Ella was at the top of her list too.

 

“No…,” she shook her head, “But Ella… I’m late.”

 

Ella’s brow furrowed in concern, “You can’t go anywhere right now, Sansa. You need to get into bed, but if you tell me where you’re supposed to be I’ll make sure to tell your professors.”

 

Now it was Sansa’s eyes that were welling. She shook her head and Ella grabbed her arms and held them gently.

 

“No,” she shook her head, over and over again, her vision blurry, “No Ella… I’m _late_.”

 

Ella didn’t say anything, but she was in her arms in the next minute. Sansa let out a sob as Ella stroked her back, cooing nonsensical but comforting sounds in her ear.

 

“It’s going to be alright,” Ella promised as the sobs came again and again, “It will all be alright. I _promise_.”

 

“Ella I…,” Sansa started.

 

“I know,” Ella nodded, and though Sansa wasn’t sure that even she knew, she believed her all the same.

 

When Sansa stopped crying she pulled away and took the tissue that Ella handed her gratefully.

 

“Do you want me to go get you a test? Or… do you want me to call Jon?,” Ella wondered.

 

“No…,” Sansa nodded and sighed with a sniffle, “I just want to lay in bed and watch Maze of Lords and be a normal university student for a little while longer.”

 

Ella looked at her like she might suggest an alternate plan, but only briefly. She kicked off her shoes and took off her coat and hat and mittens and then crawled into Sansa’s bed.

 

“Then that is exactly what we’re going to do,” she said finally, holding up the comforter so that Sansa could climb in beside her.

 

Sansa followed her in and they settled against the pillows. She pressed play on the episode, though she wondered if she should start it over.

 

“They are totally going to get together,” Ella noted as they watched Kit and Alayne have a passionate fight on the eve of a battle.

 

Sansa leaned her head on Ella’s shoulder and before she knew it, Ella’s arms were wrapped her around her, stroking her hair.

 

“It really is going to be alright,” Ella told her after a while.

 

“I know,” Sansa nodded, burrowing into her more. “For both of us.”


	13. The Pack Survives

**Arya**

 

“I… I need you,” she whimpered.

 

“I’ll be right there,” he promised, “Just stay put.”

 

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her and didn’t hang up the phone until she heard that he had.

 

She paced her small dorm room for what felt like an eternity. She was lucky, in these moments, to have a single. She couldn’t have dealt with a curious roommate staring at her.

 

It was probably only seven minutes before she heard the knocking on her door,which later on would probably worry her. He shouldn’t have gotten here that fast. In the moment though, she was just grateful.

 

She ran to the door and opened it. It was both of them, of course it was.

 

“Hi,” she said stupidly, like a scared little girl.

 

“Hi,” they said sympathetically, like it was okay to be afraid.

 

She stepped aside and let them into her room and shut the door behind them.

 

“Okay,” Jon said.

 

“I can’t,” she shook her head.

 

“Yes you can,” Robb prompted her.

 

“ _No_ ,” she protested, “You do it!”

 

The pair shared a look between them and Jon nodded, glancing at the small envelope in her hands with a bit of wariness. She shoved it at Robb and he sighed as he took it, probably feeling the weightlessness of it.

 

She paced away from them both and she heard Robb opening the envelope. It was the kind of noisy that only happened when someone was trying to be quiet and at any other time it would have made her laugh.

 

There was silence for a moment, a too long moment, and she turned around.

 

“Well?,” she growled at them before she could see their faces.

 

But they were both grinning. Grinning from ear to ear. Even Jon Snow, which in and of itself told her everything she needed to know.

 

“I got in?,” she asked in disbelief.

 

“You got in,” Robb nodded, the joy clear in his voice.

 

“I GOT IN?!!,” she cried again, practically vibrating.

 

“YOU GOT IN!,” they both shouted at her.

 

She jumped, she wasn’t even sure that she was jumping in either of their directions in particular, but it didn’t matter. They were her big brothers, they’d always catch her.

 

It was Jon who’s arms she landed in and she was surrounded by his familiar, comforting smell and his strong arms that had caught her just like this a hundred times.

 

She got to stay with him. She didn’t have to leave. She didn’t have to resort to video chats and text messages. She’d get to see him every day if she wanted for the next two and a half years until he graduated.

 

“I have no idea why I’m so relieved,” he told her, “There was no way you weren’t getting in.”

 

“Yeah even still you were shaking like a damn leaf on the way over,” Robb pointed out.

 

“Says the guy who almost crashed the car he was driving so fast!,” Jon argued making Arya giggle.

 

They, like she and Sansa, sometimes reverted to their earlier years when they weren’t just best friends, but rivals too. They’d grown up like brothers, so close, and so they knew exactly how to goad the other.

 

“Can I hug her now please?,” Robb scoffed.

 

Jon transferred her to his arms, as though she were nothing more than a little girl. The girl whose hair he always mussed and who he used to agree to be paired with in three legged races, carrying her the whole way to victory as Theon and Robb fell into a heap on the ground.

 

And then she was in Robb’s arms, and he was holding onto her like he had been afraid he was going to lose her. Even though she’d been terrible all semester, even though she didn’t deserve him at all. _Tick, tick, tick,_ went the tell-tale heart.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

 

“For what?,” he asked.

 

“Everything,” she said as he put her down. She put her hands on his shoulders and said, “But most of all… I’m sorry I doubted you. I didn’t… I didn’t understand…”

 

“Didn’t understand what?,” he asked.

 

“That you love her. I didn’t pay attention. I thought you just _wanted_ her. I thought… I didn’t see. But I’ve been seeing it for the past couple of months, and it must have been so terrible for you watching her… with Trystane… and then I… I’ve been spending so much time with them and…I… I screwed everything up. I made all the wrong choices and now Ella’s with someone she shouldn’t be and you’re all alone and Gendry doesn’t trust me and…and I’ve screwed it all up.”

 

“I could have fought you on it,” Robb sighed, “I could have explained, but I didn’t. She called me a coward and she was right. I used you as an excuse. But you weren’t to blame, Arya… I don’t blame you for any of it.”

 

“ _Except_ maybe the Gendry thing,” Jon said from behind her. She turned and looked at him and his face was contorted in pain, like he hated reprimanding her for anything even though she deserved it. “He trusts you more than anyone. You’re his family and you’ve…”

 

“Been treating him like shit,” she nodded, repeating Gendry’s words to her.

 

They both sighed, neither of them argued with her. She hadn’t expected them to, it was the truth.

 

“He needs you now,” Robb told her, “More than ever.”

 

“Will you help me?,” she asked them.

 

“Always,” they promised.

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

It was the second time that week that he thought he was going to die because of a call from a Stark girl.

 

Arya had called Robb and he’d driven over on two wheels to get to her, and now Jon was doing exactly that to get to the other Stark girl, the older one, the one he loved more than anything in this world.

 

He parked his truck, not even sure that it was in an actual space, and ran up the front walk and into the dorm and up the stairs to Sansa’s corner double on the second floor.

 

He banged on the door and she opened it, her eyes wide in fear and her mouth clenched in anger.

 

“What _took_ you so long?,” she practically growled at him.

 

She never spoke to him like that, never spoke to _anyone_ like that, and he wanted to gather her in his arms. It was only fear that could make his sweet girl sound so vicious.

 

She had every reason to be angry at him because in truth she’d called him over an hour ago.

 

_“Hi love, how are you feeling?,” he asked her._

 

_“Jon I… I…,” she started._

 

_“Sansa?”_

 

_“I’m late. My…period I mean. And I… I’ve been so nauseous and…Jon…,” she whimpered._

 

He’d gone into tunnel vision after that. They’d always been safe, but he knew that didn’t mean it was impossible.

 

“I uh… had to pick something else up on the way,” he told her.

 

“You ran ERRANDS!?!,” she railed at him, which in spite of everything almost made him laugh. “What on _earth_ could have been more important?”

 

“This,” he told her, taking the small box out of his jacket pocket.

 

“Jon,” she said, stepping away, as if it might poison her.

 

He opened the box and revealed the diamond ring he’d gotten at the antique store downtown. It was elegant and beautiful, just like her, and he knew the moment he saw it that it was the right one.

 

“I’m not going to be my father, Sansa,” he warned her. “I’m not going to let any child of mine ever think that they were unwanted, or unloved. That they weren’t the greatest gift of my life.”

 

“But,” she protested, tears welling in her eyes. “Aren’t you angry with me?”

 

He smiled at her, his precious girl.

 

“If we _are_ pregnant…I’d say that we are equally responsible,” he pointed out.

 

“But we’re so young,” she argued.

 

“I know,” he nodded. He wasn’t a fool, he knew this wasn’t part of the plan, not at this point in their lives. “But I’ve loved you since before I knew what it was to love anyone. To want anyone. To cherish anyone. Loving you is who I am, Sansa. So if we’re pregnant then this is an engagement ring, and if we’re not, then it’s a promise ring. Either way it’s yours, just like I am. We may be young, but after all the awful decisions I’ve seen adults make, I’m not so sure that they have it all figured out. I think they just do what they can with what they have, and what _I_ have, what I’ve _always_ had, is my love for you.”

 

She let out a little cry and stumbled forward into his arms. He hugged her to him and breathed her in, that familiar scent of roses and honey and kissed her soft warm hair.

 

“But what about your future?,” she asked against his chest.

 

“ _You’re_ my future Sansa. You’re always going to be it,” he promised, tilting her chin up so that she had to look at him. Her blue eyes were still filled with tears but there was hope in them too and so much love that it threatened to knock him on his ass, “So if our future starts today? Great. And if it starts in five years, or ten? Great. Because it’s you and me, it’s always going to be you in me. And I know you’re scared, I know that you are. But I’m not.”

 

“You’re not?”

 

“Not even a little. That’s what real love does, it makes you fearless. So I’m telling you that no matter what. No matter if we’re pregnant or not. I’m going to be here - in this - with you - every day -for the _rest_ of our lives. So take the test, my love, so we know what that future is going to look like, but take it knowing that that future is _ours_. Yours and mine.”

 

“I love you,” she told him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

 

He kissed her back ardently, it might be their last kiss as children, and he held her to him a moment longer, saying goodbye to the girl she was.

 

She reached for the bag in his hand and went into the bathroom and shut the door. He sat on her bed and waited, looking around at the pictures she had on her wall and her light pink bedspread.

 

He’d always felt entirely too big and too dirty somehow to be in this room. It was always immaculate, Sansa loved tidiness, and she’d made the little space her own, having grown used to maximising small rooms at Arryn Academy.

 

He smoothed the bedspread, thinking of their first time here and their second, and so many times after that. When they were together it was perfect.

 

_And anything that comes from it will be perfect too._

 

Sansa came out and he raised his eyebrows at her.

 

“It takes a few minutes,” she told him.

 

He nodded and she came and sat on the bed next to him.

 

“Yes, by the way,” she told him.

 

“Yes what?,” he asked.

 

“To the ring, and the future, to all of it. With you. _Yes_ ,” she said softly.

 

They sat together for a few minutes and when she got up, he got up with her. He followed her into the little bathroom and placed his hand on her back as she picked up the test.

 

She looked at it and shook it. And then shook it again.

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” he said softly.

 

“I don’t understand…,” she whimpered, “I… it’s… it’s _negative_?”

 

“It’s negative?,” he asked, peering at it. Sure enough there was only one line. “Oh.”

 

“That’s good…,” Sansa nodded, throwing it in the trash. She started washing her hands, nodding all the while. “That’s good.”

 

He rubbed her back, waiting for it. When her sob broke it nearly beckoned his own and he pulled her to him. She fell against him, and he felt her knees start to buckle.

 

He picked her up and carried her back into her room, kicking off his shoes, and then he climbed into her bed, bringing her with him.

 

“I know it’s the right thing,” she told him.

 

“Me too,” he said. It was only half a lie.

 

She burrowed into him and he held her close, their bodies completely intertwined.

 

“Tell me about our future,” she ordered softly.

 

He swallowed hard and held her tighter, “We’ll live in Winterfell. And Robb, little Robb, will come first. He’s going to love his Uncle, his namesake, and if we’re lucky he’ll grow up just like him. And then our daughter will come along, and she’ll have auburn hair, just like you, or maybe black curls like mine and your blue eyes…”

 

“Either way,” Sansa said softly, “We’ll name her Lyanna.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll still with me?


	14. A Lannister always pays his Debts

**Robb**

 

Robb was leaving the gym on Thursday night, sweaty and starving, when he ran into Margery Tyrell.

 

“Hello Robbert,” Margery said with her trademark smirk.

 

“Marg,” he said guardedly. That smirk always meant trouble.

 

“Oh relax I’m not here for your _virtue_ ,” Margery said with a roll of her eyes, and then the smirk was back as she said, “And anyway I’ve heard that as of late its not so _easy_ getting that virtue of yours…”

 

Robb groaned though he had known it was only a matter of time before the rumors started. Gracie Smallwood in particular had been disappointed and hadn’t quite believed him when he’d blamed it on too much alcohol and bad weed.

 

“Be kind,” he pleaded.

 

She chuckled and gave him a little wave before bounding up the stairs into the gym.

 

He started walking through campus. It was snowing once again and there were couples huddled together against the cold and so they didn’t slip. He heard laughter as someone threw a snowball followed by a chorus of _ohhh_.

 

His phone started buzzing in his pocket and saw _Dad_ on the caller ID.

 

“Hey pops,” he said, because he knew it annoyed his Dad and neither him nor any of his siblings (except Sansa) could resist goading their father.

 

“Hey kid,” Ned Stark’s deep Northern voice said. “How’re you doing preparing for your midterms?”

 

“I had my first one today, in Macro Econ,” he reported, “It went well. A couple of the case studies you had recommended were on it.”

 

“Good, and when is your politics?,” his dad asked.

 

“On Monday, I’ll be studying for it most of the weekend, and then after that I’ve got Devs on Tuesday. Poli-Thought doesn’t have one, just a paper which I’m sending to you tomorrow.”

 

“Good, I’ll read it over the weekend and send back my notes,” his dad said. “And Sansa?”

 

It did not allude Robb that his father treated him like a second in command, and expected him to be able to report on his little sisters’ comings and goings, what classes were giving them a hard time and if they’d been getting enough sleep. He’d never minded it, and he felt a strange sense of pride every time his father asked.

 

“She mostly has papers actually, she’s already written two of them, I’m proofing one and Jon’s proofing the other, though she’s also having Ella look over them because she doesn’t trust us,” he said with a grin and he heard his father chuckle. Sansa was a known perfectionist and while she was very effusive about his and Jon’s intelligence, she claimed that their analyses sometimes lacked the necessary _nuances_. “The only test she has is a slide test in Art History and she’s been carrying around her note cards since Halloween. She’ll be fine, but I’ll test her again over the weekend.”

 

“Very good,” his Dad said. “And I trust Arya is still riding the high of getting into Vale…”

 

“Yeah, she is, but she’s been studying non-stop for her calculus midterm. Jon’s been helping her a bit because you know I’m shit at it, but for everything else she’s golden. You know Arya, once she hears it, she knows it.”

 

His youngest sister had for all intents and purposes, a photographic memory. Once she’d seen it or heard it, it never really left her, so school had always been a breeze for her. It also made debating with her _really_ difficult because she could pull up the most obscure points that you didn’t even remember.

 

“Alright good, Bran has submitted his application to Arryn. Thank you for reading his admission essay,” his Dad said. Robb smiled at the thought of his little brother continuing the family tradition of boarding at Arryn Academy. He might be the smartest of all of them, and had particular gifts for language and music. “But I wasn’t just calling to talk about your studies, though that is where I want your _focus_ is that clear, son?”

 

“Yes sir,” Robb nodded, though his father couldn’t see him.

 

“But I did as you asked and I looked into Jaime Lannister a bit. As far as I can see, the offer he made to Gendry is legitimate. There _is_ a summer internship and it appears as though the salary ranges depending on who the intern is and how connected their family. $100,000 would be the highest paid, but Willas Tyrell was able to negotiate $90,000 a few years ago.”

 

“For three months? As a university student? That’s obscene…,” Robb scoffed.

 

“Yeah well, it seems to have been an investment. When Willas took over from Mace last year he cut ties with the Tarlys and gave his business to the Lannisters. It was a lucrative deal for both of them.”

 

“But that doesn’t explain why he’d offer it to Gendry. He doesn’t have a family business to inherit. It’s not like the Baratheon brothers are knocking down his door welcoming him into the fold, right?,” Robb asked.

 

In truth, that had surprised him a bit at first. He would have thought that they would want to know about their nephew, but they’d shown no interest.

 

_“My uncles waited a long time for my father to die,” Ella told him as they sat on the couch at the rugby house. “They were furious when he left the company to both of them, each having thought they’d be named successor. No one imagined that Joff would be. He’s all Lannister. And Tommen’s too young.”_

 

_“And what about you?,” Robb asked._

 

_Ella gave him a faraway smile and said, “How different it must be in the North, if you think a girl could inherit an empire. I think I’d like it there.”_

 

_“Ella come on… that can’t be the reason…,” he argued._

 

_“Well, not the only reason,” she allowed, “I’m too young, for one thing. And I look far too much like my mother to ever be trusted. They invite me to their events and they buy me nice presents but they’ll never bring me into the fold, not really. Gendry though…”_

 

_“Yeah?”_

 

_“He’s the spitting image of our father. And with that temper of his? And that fortitude… the board would swear he was the second coming. My uncles would be hopeless against him.”_

 

“Maybe he’s trying to fix some sins from the past…,” his father suggested.

 

His father was a legend in the North, in all of Westeros really but in the North in particular. He was formidable and capable and moral, but sometimes he was so _fucking_ naive that it made Robb want to bash his head against a wall.

 

“Dad, come on…,” he argued. “This is Jaime _fucking_ Lannister we’re talking about.”

 

His father sighed and said, “I know, son, you’re right. But… he loves his niece Myrcella, or Ella as you all call her. From what you’ve told me she has distanced herself from her family these past few months. Maybe it isn’t about bringing Gendry into the fold. Maybe it’s about bringing her _back_ into it.”

 

Robb stopped at the possibility of that. It made sense, Ella was ceaselessly loyal to Gendry. She had cut ties with her mother’s family almost completely when her mother and her grandfather had threatened her about pursuing a relationship with him. If her Uncle Jaime loved her as much as Gendry said he seemed to, then maybe he would risk his family’s ire to get her back.

 

“$100,000 for her?,” Robb sighed, “He’s underbidding by a few zeroes.”

 

“He’s paying at least one more zero for her,” his Dad said.

 

“What does that mean?,” Robb wondered.

 

“Rodrick found something else…,” his Dad told him, as though he didn’t want to. “One of the Lannister’s shell companies made a $1,000,000 donation to Vale University on Tuesday morning.”

 

“To Vale?! A MILLION dollars, to Vale? They would let Ella in for _free_. She’s an internationally ranked equestrian, one of the best ballet dancers in Westeros and her grades are perfect. Why would he _waste_ so much money on a sure thing?”

 

“Tywin Lannister is a pragmatic man, maybe that has been passed to his children. He’d never leave anything to chance. Perhaps Jaime just wanted to ensure that it went his way…”

 

***

 

**Myrcella**

 

Snow was falling once again but it did not delight her in the same way that it had only a week before.

 

_Has it just been a week?_

 

She felt as though she’d aged much more than that. That these past days had changed her irrevocably. And she wasn’t entirely sure that she liked the person she’d become.

 

She could not focus on the way the old fashioned street lamps cast a hazy glow through the beautiful campus, making the snow it touched glisten, or the way students walked arm and arm, huddled together against the cold, their pink cheeks and bright eyes making them seem children once again.

 

All she could focus on was how with every step she was getting closer and closer.

 

A pit was in her stomach, but it had been her constant companion for the last few days so she barely noticed it. Her hands didn’t shake, and she hated herself for that. A better person would be shaking she was sure of it.

 

Before too long she found herself in front of the familiar townhouse. It was on the edge of campus closest to town, where far more professors lived than students.

 

She rang the doorbell and waited until the door was opened.

 

“Goldie! You could have just used your key…,” Trystane started. His face fell when he really looked at hers though and she saw his jaw clench, a brief nod as though he knew the business she’d come to conduct. “Come on in out of the cold.”

 

A gentleman to the last.

 

He brought her into his living room where a fire was burning. His laptop was open on his desk and books and papers were scattered on it. A glass of whiskey perched on a coaster.

 

She had always loved this room. It felt so grown-up. It was decorated with cozy but manly decor and it felt like the person who lived here knew exactly who he was, who he was going to be, and he wasn’t afraid.

 

She loved curling up on the couch where she sat now, with a glass of wine and leaning against him as they watched a movie or as they read. Sometimes he’d proofread her essays and he’d chuckle at a turn of phrase she would use and kiss behind her ear, murmuring _“You’re entirely too clever for me_ ”. Some nights they’d play cyvasse like they had when they were children and on others they’d just make out on this couch, their hands wandering over the plane’s of the other’s body.

 

“I could guess,” he told her, “But why don’t you tell me why you’re here.”

 

“Trystane…,” she started, “I love you -“

 

“Please don’t say that,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

 

“But it’s true,” she half-whispered. “I… I _do_ love you.”

 

“Just not in the way I love you,” he supplied.

 

“No,” she admitted, “Not in the way you love me.”

 

He stood up from the couch and walked around the room. He grabbed his glass of whiskey and brought it to his lips but set it back down before drinking any of it.

 

“I thought that… when… after the other night, when we had sex… I thought I had finally done it. Changed your mind…convinced you…,” he sighed.

 

“Is that what you really want?,” she wondered, “To have to convince someone? Do you know how many girls on campus want to scratch my eyes out? Any one of them would have given their left arm to be in my place. But after that night I…”

 

He crossed to her then and sat on the couch, cupping her face in his hands. His golden eyes looked into hers with so much concern.

 

“Did I hurt you?,” he asked her, “I… if I hurt you that night then I’m _so_ sorry… I can…”

 

“No,” she shook her head, holding his wrists. Needing him to believe this one thing. “You treated me like _every_ girl should be treated on her first time. You were gentle and patient and caring and passionate. You made me feel _safe_ and _wanted_ and _beautiful._ You were all I could have ever asked for.”

 

He looked at her and traced his knuckle down her cheek.

 

“Except I wasn’t him,” he choked out.

 

“I’m sorry,” she cried, the sob bubbling up from deep inside her, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, “You did warn me after all, didn’t you? I knew that I didn’t have your whole heart. But I didn’t care. I’d waited so long that I tricked myself into believe that I could be okay with just a part of it. A part of you.”

 

“I didn’t deserve any of you,” she admitted.

 

“We can’t control who we love,” Trystane said with more grace than she deserved, “If we could… the world would be a much happier place.”

 

She nodded at the truth of that statement. So much pain went into loving the wrong people or not being loved by the right ones. So much energy was spent on trying not to feel the way that they felt.

 

The way that she felt.

 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and stood up, knowing that even manners such as his had their limits. Neither of them were the type to draw things out, and she knew he’d prefer it if she left, though he’d never say so.

 

She crossed to the door and she felt him behind her so she stopped and looked at him.

 

“Just promise me one thing,” he demanded, “If you ever change your mind… don’t let your pride get in the way. Because I wouldn’t… you know… refuse you out of pride. I would never. So you don’t either.”

 

She knew that she would never change her mind. If she was going to fall in love with him it would have happened by now. On one of the many nights when they’d holed up in here, in the warm safety of his house, or when he carried her across campus because her shoes were pinching her toes, or when he held her so tenderly as he made love to her.

 

Even still, she knew that if she did her pride, Lannister though it was, would be no match for heart in the end.

 

“I promise.”

 

With that she left and as she walked through the campus she did notice the way the old fashioned street lamps cast a hazy glow and made the snow it touched glisten.

 

She walked back to her car and drove the familiar roads back to Arryn Academy.

 

She grabbed her mail out of her mailbox in her dorm and trudged up the stairs to her corner single room on the third floor.

 

She set everything down on her desk as she took off her coat. She was going to leave it all for the morning and make herself a cup of tea but then she saw it. A cream colored envelope with _Vale University_ and it’s insignia on it.

 

She tore it open and unfolded the paper.

 

_Dear Myrcella Baratheon,_

 

_The Admissions Committee has carefully reviewed your application to Vale University. After much consideration, I regret to inform you…_


	15. A Bad Investment

**Gendry**

 

He was just packing up his things when Robb walked into the boys’ apartment, snowflakes not yet melted in his hair and his eyes a little wild.

 

“Oh good, you’re here,” he said, “I have to talk to you.”

 

“Not for long,” Gendry sighed, “I gotta go see Ella.”

 

“That’s who I have to talk to you about,” Robb said, barely glancing at Jon and Theon who were sitting on the couch watching the hockey game. “I um… well… I asked my Dad to do some digging about the offer and -“

 

“Robb, can we talk about this later? I’m not thinking about that internship right now. I’m only thinking about - hey where’s that place she likes the scones from?,” Gendry wondered.

 

“Alysanne’s,” Robb supplied, “But they’ll be out by now. Listen to me though, I think I understand why-”

 

“Robb! Just forget about the bloody internship alright? Ella broke up with Trystane and she didn’t get into Vale. She needs me I have to _go-“_

 

“That’s impossible,” Robb argue.

 

Gendry sighed because he couldn’t disagree. He’d seen her transcript and her test scores, he’d read her admissions essays and he knew the recommendations she’d been able to get. He’d seen her dance and he’d watched her equestrian competitions. Despite being the greatest heiress in the country, Ella should have been given a full ride to Vale. There should have been a tournament in her honor where Vale and the Citadel and Storm’s End competed for the chance to have her attend.

 

“Look man,” Jon sighed, “We were all surprised… and disappointed but…”

 

Gendry made for the door and Robb stood in front of him.

 

“What in seven hells has gotten into you?,” he growled at him.

 

“You don’t understand,” Robb shook his head, “It’s _impossible_ that she didn’t get in.” His hand was still on Gendry’s chest and in any other situation Gendry would have hit his arm to get him off but it almost felt like Robb was using him to keep himself up. He’d never seen the look in Robb’s eyes that he saw now. “It’s impossible.”

 

“Robb?,” Jon asked in concern but Robb stood their silently.

 

Gendry could see the wheels turning in his mind, but it looked like something else too. Like Robb was ageing right before his eyes.

 

“Dude you’re scaring us,” Theon said, and Gendry realised that he and Jon were behind him.

 

Robb pushed away from him and ran his hand through his hair. He took out his phone and pressed a button and held it to his ear.

 

“You’re positive?,” he asked, “Vale University? When was this exactly? That son of a _bitch_. I’ll call you later. I’ve got to go. No I’ve got to _go_.”

 

Gendry glanced at Theon and Jon and he realised that they were all standing in their defensive, athletic positions. They looked like they were on the rugby field, and it would almost be humorous if Robb wasn’t scaring the life out of all of them.

 

“Robb,” Jon repeated again.

 

“Don’t take that internship,” Robb shook his head.

 

“Robb I don’t care about the _fucking_ internship!,” Gendry practically yelled at him. “I care about _Ella_ and you’re keeping me from her right now so unless you want to start talking I’m out of here.”

 

Robb looked at him, his jaw clenched.

 

“Two days ago a shell company of the Lannister’s transferred a million dollars to Vale University,” Robb told them.

 

“A _million_ dollars?,” Theon questioned. “They shouldn’tve done it anonymously, otherwise Ella would’ve gotten in.”

 

“Unless…,” Jon started.

 

“They _didn’t_ do it anonymously,” Robb nodded, “And that’s _why_ she didn’t get in.”

 

Now Gendry felt his knees buckling. It was all so crazy. Million dollar bribes and shell corporations and at the centre of it all, Ella. The golden girl.

 

The girl for whom her family would do anything to get back.

 

Even offer him an internship for $100,000.

 

It was unclear what their ultimate plan was, but they wanted him out of her life, that much was clear. And that was enough for him.

 

“They’re dead,” Gendry shook his head. “They’re all fucking _dead_.”

 

“Just calm down for a minute,” Jon warned, “We don’t want to make a stupid mistake.”

 

“And what would you do? If it was Arya?,” Gendry challenged, “If someone tried to take her away from you, what would _you_ do?”

 

“I would kill them all,” Robb answered for him, “And so would he. But… we have to be smart. We have to tell Ella and -“

 

“ _Tell_ her?,” Gendry questioned, “That her own family betrayed her? That they plotted against me? You’re the one who is saying we have to be smart. We can’t bring her that without proof. It will destroy her. We have to be _sure_. We keep this between us.”

 

Robb looked at him, his eyes wide, and took a half step back.

 

“Don’t,” he shook his head, “ _Don’t_ ask me to lie to her.”

 

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you,” Gendry said.

 

“You wouldn’t even know if it weren’t for him,” Jon growled, stepping away from him so he was standing at Robb’s side. “You don’t get to dictate how this goes.”

 

“She’s my sister!,” Gendry yelled at him.

 

“Aye, I know that,” Jon yelled back, “And don’t you think you’ve done _enough_ damage trying to protect her in the past? Don’t you think everyone has?”

 

“You think I want to hurt her?,” Robb asked him, his entire face contorted in pain, “You think I want to tell her that the only uncle that she trusts paid a million dollars to rob her of the future she wanted? That he is… _conspiring_ against the brother that she loves? I don’t want to have to tell her that. Of course I don’t. I will _destroy_ them all for doing this to her but I am not going to add myself to the ranks of people who have betrayed her. I won’t do it. I won’t _have_ it, do you hear me? She doesn’t have a family now. Not after this. It’s _over,_ don’t you see that? She only has _us_ , and for fuck’s sake for once in my damn life I’m going to be worthy of her.”

 

Gendry was clenching his fists. He wanted to punch Robb, but only because he was the closest person to him. Only because he agreed with him. And he loved him for that. He hated him for it too though.

 

He picked up the phone and dialled.

 

***

 

**Arya**

 

“Did he say what this was about?,” Ella asked from the passenger seat.

 

“Just that it was important,” Arya shrugged, “And that it couldn’t wait.”

 

Ella nodded and leaned her elbow on the little pad at the window, her cheek resting against her hand. She had her pajamas on underneath her coat but then again, so did Arya.

 

The last time she’d heard Gendry sound like this was the day that Ella showed up, so she’d simply pulled on her snow boots and her coat and made her way to Ella’s dorm room.

 

 _He needs you now, more than ever_.

 

It had been mere days since Robb had told her that. Days since she had sworn to be a girlfriend worthy of Gendry once again.

 

_“Will you help me?”_

 

_“Always”_

 

She stepped on the gas towards the boys’ apartment.

 

“You were expecting him,” Arya noted, “When I knocked on your door you thought I’d be Gendry.”

 

“Yeah well,” Ella sighed, “I called him earlier to let him know that I…”

 

“You?”

 

“That I had broken up with Trystane.”

 

“Oh, Ella… I’m so sorry,” Arya said, taking one hand off the steering wheel and rubbing her arm.

 

“It’s alright,” Ella waved her off, “We were doomed from the start. Everyone knew it, even us.”

 

“Because you love Robb,” Arya guessed softly.

“You’re all so sure of that, aren’t you?,” Ella chuckled harshly. She sniffled and said, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We could never have a future.”

 

“I… I won’t stand in your way,” Arya promised. “I… you have to know how sorry I am for that. I didn’t realise…”

 

“I know,” Ella said, “But there are larger forces than even Arya Stark.”

 

“Like Zeus?,” Arya offered.

 

Ella actually smiled at that, “Maybe. Maybe this is his vengeance after all. More creative than I would have expected.”

 

Arya furrowed her brows, “Vengeance?”

 

“Vengeance? Hubris? Who’s to say?,” Ella shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”

 

“Of course it matters,” Arya told her as she parked the car. “What’s going on?”

 

“Let’s go find out,” Ella said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

 

It was the first time Arya had really seen the damage she’d done to her friendship with Ella. She would party with her and be kind to her. They would sit together at dinner and breakfast and she’d loan her her clothes and she’d watch sad movies with her and eat too much junk food. But she didn’t trust her. Not really. Not anymore.

 

They got out of her car and trudged up the steps to the boys’ apartment. She used her key to open the door and all at once, Gendry, Robb, Theon, Jon and Sansa all turned to look at them.

 

“What’s going on?,” Ella asked. “What is this?”

 

“Seriously,” Arya nodded, “You look like a B list version of the Avengers or something.”

 

Only Sansa smiled at that, none of the boys did. Which told her that whatever it was Sansa didn’t know either.

 

“Here, El,” Theon stepped forward, when it became clear no one else would, “Let me take your coat.”

 

Ella unbuttoned it, looking around the room, as Arya unbuttoned hers. She took it off and handed it warily to Theon who smiled grimly at her.

 

“Theon?,” she whispered.

 

“It’ll be alright in the end, beautiful,” Theon told her. “I promise you that.” He gripped her shoulder though and said, “It’s going to get worse before it gets better. But we’re all here. For you.”

 

With that he stepped away and Ella looked around, finally landing on Sansa.

 

Arya’s big sister stepped forward and held out her hand and Ella took it. The two girls, the two most beautiful girls Arya had ever seen, the kindest girls she’d ever known, huddled together, prepared to face whatever was to come at each other’s side.

 

She couldn’t help but envy them that.

 

“I think it’s time one of you tells us what’s going on,” Sansa said.

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

She gripped Ella’s hand tightly, and her friend gripped it back. It was earlier that day that she’d called Ella and told her that she wasn’t pregnant.

 

If it was anyone else, they probably would have whooped with delight.

 

_“It will happen,” Ella promised, “When you’re ready. When you’re both ready, it will happen. And I’m going to love that kid something fierce, Sansa Stark.”_

 

“Ella, there’s…,” Robb started but Gendry cut him off with a look.

 

There seemed to be some sort of power dynamic going on between the two of them, and Sansa was surprised to see that it was Robb who stepped back.

 

“On Tuesday morning I received an email from your Uncle Jaime,” Gendry said, his eyes on Ella. “With an internship offer. With a salary of $100,000.”

 

Ella’s hand loosened in hers immediately and then it was gone. She had stepped forward and walked right up to Gendry.

 

“You can’t take it,” Ella shook her head, “Do you hear me? If you… _need money_ I will transfer half of the Baratheon trust to you. Or more. I don’t need it. But you cannot work for him.”

 

Her hands were on his chest, gripping his sweater and though Sansa couldn’t see her eyes, she knew from the sound of her voice and the looks on Robb and Jon and Gendry’s faces that the look within them must be intense, haunting even.

 

“I’m not going to,” Gendry promised. “But uh… I told Robb about it.”

 

Ella let go of his sweater and stepped away from him, “Before you told me. And that surprises me, doesn’t it?”

 

“El,” Arya cautioned.

 

“No Arya, it’s alright. She’s right,” Gendry sighed, “Yes. I had class with him and I told him about it and I didn’t tell you because… I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it.”

 

“And don’t you think she could have helped you make that decision?,” Sansa questioned, stepping up to Ella’s side. “She knows him far better than you do. Don’t you think she might have had some helpful insight?”

 

She was so sick of these boys and their archaic desire to shield them from the evils of the world. Ella was no wilting flower. If they weren’t careful, they’d all learn that to their detriment.

 

“Sansa I agree with you,” Jon cautioned her, “We all do. That’s why you’re all here.”

 

He calmed her immediately as he always did. He’d never lie to her, never. And he’d always had as much faith in Ella as she did.

 

“Robb?,” Sansa prompted.

 

“I didn’t trust your Uncle’s offer,” Robb told Ella. “It didn’t make any sense to me. So I asked my dad to look into it a bit. I thought maybe it was some cruel trick.”

 

“But it wasn’t,” Ella guessed. No, she didn’t guess, she said it like she knew. “My uncle does not waste time on frivolities. So it had to be a real offer. He wouldn’t have done it without my grandfather’s permission.” She turned back and looked at Gendry, “Which means the Lannisters are moving against you.”

 

It was not lost on Sansa that Ella said _the Lannisters_ rather than _my family._ She looked at Arya who seemed to be realising the same thing and the pair of them reached for each other. No matter how much they squabbled she could never picture any Stark disowning another.

 

Ella crossed back to Gendry and took his hands, “I’m so sorry Gendry. I… I knew they were upset with me for coming to find you but I didn’t think they’d actually try to _hurt_ you. I didn’t think they’d come for you.”

 

“It’s not me they’re coming for,” Gendry told her softly.

 

Sansa felt her blood run cold. It felt like something ancient and terrible had just arisen and she didn’t understand it.

 

“Robby?,” she whimpered.

 

Ella was unafraid though and she smiled, “Thank the gods. It’s me, isn’t it? You were right Arya.”

 

***

 

**Jon**

 

In all his life he had never seen someone so overjoyed to find out that they had been betrayed.

 

Ella Baratheon was no ordinary girl.

 

“What did you find, Robb?,” Ella asked him.

 

It had been over a month since he’d heard Ella address him, and it was a testament to the situation that Robb did not do a backflip in celebration.

 

“There’s a reason you didn’t get into Vale, Ella,” Robb told her. His jaw was clenched and his cheeks were red. Jon knew that he wanted to tear every Lannister limb from limb. “Your family made a sizeable donation to the university. To reject you.”

 

They all turned to look at Ella. Though she was wearing her pajamas, a chunky cream turtleneck and red flannel pajama pants, she looked like a princess. A warrior princess, as silly as it was to say. She would not have looked out of place with a sword in her hand.

 

“Well that helps my ego at least,” Ella quipped.

 

“Damn it Ella this isn’t a joke!,” Gendry yelled at her.

 

“She’s fucking _processing_ leave her alone,” Jon growled at him.

 

He loved Gendry but his temper was a liability sometimes.

 

Ella turned and smiled at him, squeezing his arm gently as she walked by him. She sat down on the couch and kicked off her snow boots and tucked her legs up underneath her.

 

“How much was I worth?,” she asked.

 

He looked at Theon who shook his head _no_ , and they both turned to look at Robb and Gendry. They were fighting their own battle, but it didn’t matter. Ella chose for them.

 

“How much was I worth, Robb?,” she asked again.

 

“They paid a million,” Robb told her.

 

He did not say the second part, Jon heard it all the same.

 

_They paid a million, but you are worth far more._

 

“The highest amount ever paid for a whore in Westeros I’d wager,” Ella nodded.

 

“Ella!,” Sansa cried. “Don’t say that.”

 

Ella looked at her sympathetically. As though she was the victim. As though she was only now learning something that Ella had known long before.

 

“They paid a million dollars to possess my body,” Ella explained to her, “That is all this would achieve. Not my loyalty, not my _love_. Just my body. That is what a whore gives. Her body and nothing else.”

 

Ella stepped back into her snow boots and stood up.

 

“I want you all to forget about this,” she told them, grabbing her coat off the backs of one of the chairs. “Gendry you’ll send my uncle a polite note letting him know that you’ve already committed to an internship elsewhere. Robb you’ll tell your Dad to stop looking into the Lannisters.”

 

“And what will you do?,” Jon found himself questioning.

 

She was moving to leave but Robb stepped in front of her. She sighed and buttoned her coat as though he was a child that she was patiently waiting to stop having a tantrum.

 

“Ella I told you this because I trusted you,” Robb told her. “I didn’t want to keep anything from you. Not _even_ to keep you safe. Don’t you think you owe us the same?”

 

“It’s different,” Ella argued, trying to move by him.

 

He stepped in front of her again though and said, “It’s the same.”

 

“It is NOT the same!,” Ella raged at him, “I did this Robb. _Me_. I came here and I… fucked _everything_ up. I am not going to have you pay for my mistakes! This is what they will do to _me_. Someone they think they love. What do you think they’ll do to you? To all of you?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Gendry told her. “If they come for you they are coming for me.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Ella said, “There are things you don’t know. Things I haven’t told you. Things you never _have_ to know. Just let me _go_. Trust me that I know what I’m doing.”

 

“But I don’t trust you,” Robb argued, “Not like this. You’re angry and I understand but you’ve got to think about this rationally. You’ve got to be ca-“

 

Ella straightened herself up to her full height, which hardly even met Robb’s shoulder but it withered him all the same.

 

“I am Tywin Lannister’s granddaughter. I do not need to be lectured on what it is to think practically. To act strategically. I am not about to go there in a fit of anger.”

 

“So what are you going to do then?,” Gendry questioned her.

 

It wasn’t a good idea, them ganging up on her. She’d been raised by people who would do this, a pair of noble fools that loved her weren’t going to scare her.

 

“I’m going to give them what they want,” Ella said and Jon felt a pit in his stomach. “Me.”

 

“Ella you can’t,” Sansa cried.

 

“I can,” Ella nodded, “And I promise you that they’ll wish I hadn’t.”


	16. He was brave and good; Nothing daunted her

**Robb**

 

He didn’t give Gendry a chance to say so much as _I told you so_ before he grabbed his coat and followed Ella out into the night.

 

She hadn’t made it very far, only to the parking lot and he found her on her phone.

 

“I’m ordering a taxi,” she told him.

 

“Don’t bother,” he said.

 

She looked at him warily, as though at any moment he might pick her up and lock her in a closet where no one could reach her.

 

Admittedly, he was tempted.

 

“I don’t want to argue,” she said finally.

 

“We won’t,” he promised, “Let me take you home.”

 

She nodded and he lead her over to his car, letting her in the passenger side before going over to the driver’s. He hadn’t driven in a couple of days and it was cold so he cranked up the heat, pushing a few of the vents towards Ella. She still wore her light blue wool coat and he wasn’t sure how she went outside some days in it.

 

When the car had heated up a bit he pulled out of the parking lot and started down the familiar roads. He drove slowly, he was in no rush to get her home, plus it was pitch black, and she was in the car.

 

“You’re a more cautious driver than I’ve been lead to believe,” she teased.

 

“Yeah well, precious cargo and all that,” he said with a half-grin. The full one wouldn’t seem to come.

 

He could feel her eyes on him and he turned briefly to look at her before turning back to the road.

 

“Do you regret it?,” she asked him, “Telling me?”

 

“No,” he told her honestly. “The way I see it, everything that has gone wrong from the moment we met was us all trying our hardest to protect one of the others. You most of all. We were so busy thinking we knew what was right, that _we_ were the ones who were going to shield the others from pain… look how well that turned out.”

 

“And now you think I’m doing the same thing,” she noted.

 

“Now I know you are,” he corrected.

 

“You said we wouldn’t argue,” she accused half-heartedly.

 

“Yeah well, you asked,” he pointed out. He looked at the road, wishing he could take her hand or pull over or something but he couldn’t, not on these back roads at night. “And Ella I’m _never_ going to lie to you again. Never.”

 

“Have I ever told you how my father died?,” she asked him.

 

“Sansa mentioned a car accident once,” he said, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter and easing his foot off the gas.

 

“A car accident,” Ella nodded, “So the police report and every news agency said. It wasn’t a lie, so much. But that sounds so quick doesn’t it? Merciful. In truth he lingered for weeks after. He was in pain, unimaginable pain. I fear he lost his senses towards the end really. He’d have to, wouldn’t he? To tell me what really happened. To warn me about what happens to those who get in the way of the Lannisters.”

 

“Are you trying to tell me that he was murdered?,” he asked her.

 

“There’s no way of knowing,” Ella said stoically. “I promised not to look into it. But I lived with my mother for two years afterwards. She is capable of it.”

 

“Does Gendry know this?,” he questioned, still trying to make sense of it all.

 

“No,” she confessed, “His temper is a liability.”

 

“And what of my temper?,” he growled at her. “How dare you tell me this?”

 

“Because I won’t to lie to you either. And I’m trying to explain. Why none of you can be involved.”

 

“All you’ve accomplished is making me want to drive you as far north as north goes,” he confessed. “This is what you meant, isn’t it? When you told me that you did not need to be lectured on the need to act strategically. You’ve been playing this game since far before you came here, haven’t you?”

 

“It isn’t a game to me, but they’ll lose all the same,” she swore almost like a prayer.

 

“And what if you’re wrong?,” he challenged, “You’re asking me to stand aside while you go back to a bunch of _murderers_. If something happens to you how could I ever forgive myself? How can you want that for me? Do you hate me that much?”

 

“I don’t hate you - I love you. You know that,” she said calmly, as though it was nothing. As though the very ground was not shaking beneath him.

 

“Ella…,” he choked out.

 

“Nothing is going to be resolved tonight,” she went on, “You’re not going to persuade me and I’m not going to persuade you. And we’ve agreed to have no lies between us so there is no point in any of it. But just drive a little while longer, won’t you?”

 

He looked over at her briefly. She was sitting in the seat sideways, her cheek against it. She looked so young, _she is so young_ , and so beautiful, _she’s that too_ , and he realised now why she had been so offended when they’d all tried to protect her. When he’d told her cruelty wasn’t in her nature.

 

_It’s in my blood. I’m not the delicate little flower you all seem to think I am._

 

She had lived with murderers for two years. She’d dined with them and vacationed with them. She’d slept under their roof and allowed them to show her off. And all the while there was a smile on her face as bile rose in her throat, threatening to choke the very life from her.

 

_She’s the strongest of all of us. What fools we are, mere pilgrims before a goddess._

 

“I’ll drive as long as you want, sweetheart.”

 

***

 

**Myrcella**

 

She woke up surrounded by Robb’s smell. She burrowed into whatever it was, a small smile on her face, and felt the flannel duvet cover against her cheek. She reached sleepily across the bed but he wasn’t there.

 

And when she thought about it, she realised she didn’t remember coming here.

 

She rolled over and looked at his bedside clock. _3:06_ was staring at her in angry red numbers.

 

She got out of bed and walked into the living room. The sight she saw threatened to make her heart burst from her chest. Robb Stark splayed out on the couch, his feet dangling over the side, a throw pillow having fallen on the floor next to him. He didn’t have a blanket on, but there was one above the couch. According to his sisters he was a furnace, and her limited contact with him had confirmed it.

 

She tiptoed over to him and sat on the couch looking down at him. He was so beautiful, with his long eyelashes kissing his skin and his lovely red mouth parted slightly in sleep, his scruff nearing a full beard.

 

She stroked her hand through his russet curls. They were as soft as she remembered, but longer. Sansa would have to give him a haircut soon.

 

“Fuck off, Theon,” he growled sleepily, but the grin that followed directly afterwards told her that he knew exactly who she was.

 

“How did I get here?,” she asked him.

 

“I imagine you walked from my bed,” he yawned, his blue eyes opening and focusing on her.

 

“ _Here_ ,” she said, nudging him softly with her arm.

 

“I brought you,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to wake you and I didn’t want to get you in trouble sneaking into your dorm.”

 

She didn’t remember falling asleep, only being driven by him. She hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going, just on the way the headlights from the cars on the other side of the road illuminated his features every so often, and the overwhelming contentment she felt being driven by him.

 

“You carried me?,” she asked, her knuckles grazing the hollow of his cheek. “All the way up those stairs?”

 

“You’re not exactly a heavy burden,” he told her with his easy grin.

 

“Aren’t I?,” she asked him softly.

 

“No,” he told her, his gaze more intense as he sat up and took her hand in his. He raised her knuckles to his lips and she wanted to cry or sing or something from how good it felt. “You never could be.”

 

“Then can I stay with you?,” she wondered.

 

He didn’t say anything he just laid back down and pulled her with him. For some reason it didn’t occur to either of them to suggest that they move to his bed. Maybe it would make it too official, or maybe it would break the spell.

 

His hand held her to him and he was rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back. She was completely wrapped up in him and even though he was the only boy who’d ever broken her heart, she felt safer than she ever had.

 

“I broke up with Trystane,” she said softly.

 

“I know,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

 

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other,” she teased.

 

“Before I told Gendry about the money, he was on his way to you,” Robb explained, the circles becoming more purposeful, “I imagined you were upset about more than just Vale.”

 

“You don’t have to be so understanding,” she pointed out.

 

He stopped rubbing circles on her back and his hand wandered up her, sending a river of electric currents up her side until he was cupping her cheek in his hand.

 

“I _love_ you, Ella Baratheon,” he told her. It wasn’t the first time but it felt different. Softer and more promising. “So whatever upsets you, whatever hurts you, whatever threatens you is something I want to know about. And it’s not because I want to just fix it for you or because I don’t think you can handle it on your own. I know you _can_ , but you don’t have to and I don’t want you to.”

 

She took a deep breath and nodded, holding his wrist.

 

“It upsets me that I hurt him,” she told him honestly. “He didn’t deserve it. He’s a good person and I hurt him.”

 

“I know you did. But my guess is that he knows you didn’t mean to. Nobody who knows you, and I wager he knows you better than most, could ever think that you did.”

 

She remembered the first day they met when he’d been trying to hit on her and she’d been trying not to cry. She’d thought that if she’d let him, he would have taken her for a hot chocolate and listened to the whole story. It seemed she knew him even then.

 

She thought about that first day at Alysanne’s when he’d chased her out when she was upset about Gendry.

 

He’d always been there, good and strong and so caring. It was why she’d fallen in love with him so easily, and why it had hurt so badly when he’d rejected her. It was like the rug was pulled out from under her, and she’d realised it was not steady ground she’d been on at all.

 

But here and now, the ground she stood on was strong and ancient and unyielding. She knew it more than she’d ever known anything.

 

“I’m sorry,” she told him. His eyes were alight with a question and she explained, “I know that I hurt you too.”

 

His eyes softened, maybe even moistened around the edges.

 

“And I hurt you,” he said solemnly.

 

He rubbed the shell of her ear and she wasn’t entirely sure when or how it had happened but his other arm had gone underneath her and was tracing purposeful circles on her back once again. This time underneath her sweater.

 

He really was smooth.

 

As though aiming to prove her point, a small smile happened upon his face and he said, “It occurs to me though that the only way you and I have ever hurt each other is by not being with one another.”

 

“So Robb Stark,” she teased, her hand running up his chest, “What exactly are you trying to say?”

 

“Somebody once told me that in the end, it isn’t all that hard to be happy,” he said, his hand cupping the back of her head gently, “So what do you say, Ella Baratheon, want to be happy with me?”

 

“It’s worth a try anyway,” she said and felt his smile against her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait any longer. 
> 
> Hopefully Robb has been redeemed enough...? 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	17. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! Just a short one to ease me back into it. Hope you enjoy.

**Gendry**

 

Though it was Sansa who suggested it, Gendry knew that it was Robb’s idea that he and Ella tagged along to Dorne.

 

He was pretty sure that Ella knew as well, from the way her eyes had flicked directly to her new boyfriend the moment his sister suggested it. Robb had evaded her gaze and turned to him instead, talking about the four wheelers at the estate that he and the guys were planning to use.

 

The eldest Stark siblings had planned it well, because Sansa and Jon weresitting closest to Ella. Jon could convince her of anything, because she trusted him more than any of them.

 

So it was that on the Friday morning that Gendry turned in his last paper, he, the three Starks, Jon, Theon and Ella all went to Arryn International Airport and flew down to Sunspear.

 

He had never been this far south, he had never really been _anywhere_ , and as he exited the terminal he felt the heat surrounding him immediately.

 

“Isn’t it _delicious_?,” Sansa cooed at him, hooking her arm through his.

 

She had wisely worn layers on the plane and was now wearing a thin white cotton tank top, her long auburn hair pulled into a bun, looking very perfectly at ease in the sauna they had found themselves in. Arya always said that her sister was the most southern of all the Starks and he believed it looking at her now.

 

“ _Delicious_ ,” he agreed in affected tone.

 

It caused the desired result and made her throw her head back and giggle. He and Sansa had gotten closer this semester after taking an Econ class together. She had intimidated him at first, despite her unfailing kindness, because she was exactly the sort of girl who had ignored him all through middle school and high school. Now though it was hard to remember being intimidated by her because she was just so _Sansa_.

 

“Mum and Dad are so happy you guys decided to come along,” she assured him, though he hadn’t asked. She was incredibly perceptive and he had seen her glance over at him once or twice on the plane. “And Rickon is practically foaming at the mouth. He wants you to teach him how to do a back flip in the pool - though I don’t suggest doing so in front of my parents.”

 

“Noted,” he nodded.

 

He had only met the other Starks a handful of times, having spent the holidays last year on his own despite Arya’s pleading. They all sort of started to make sense when you saw them together.

 

Sansa’s personality came largely from her mother, who was a beautiful and elegant middle-aged woman with a nearly unflappable demeanour. She had some of her father in her too, his quiet pragmatism and sense of right and wrong. Arya’s wildness was tempered by Bran and mirrored in Rickon, who idolised his older brother Robb and shared his easy confidence. Bran was something of a wildcard, most similar to his eldest sister though closest with his younger brother.

 

Catelyn and Ned fit in with each of them in their own way, Arya always called her mother when she needed advice and her father when she needed reassurance (Sansa was the exact opposite). Though all the Stark children adored them, it was Robb whom they all looked to, the girls in particular, as he acted as a sort of conduit between his parents and siblings.

 

Gendry liked them all. Loved them, really, in his own way, and he was happy to be down here. Happier still that Ella had agreed to come.

 

“It was clever,” he told Sansa, knowing they were out of ear shot of the rest of their group, “Very clever.”

 

Understanding glistened in her clear blue eyes but she turned away from him and began discussing all of the wonderful things they were going to do for the next two weeks.

 

“THERE THEY ARE!!!! ROBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!”

 

Just like that, commotion took over Sunspear International Airport’s arrival zone as little Rickon sprinted across traffic. Caution was not his strong suit and his eldest brother was practically a god to him.

 

As if proving the theory, Robb sprinted forward as well, with no regard for his own life, clearly terrified of the oncoming traffic not seeing the little boy, and hoisted him up and onto the sidewalk. Once there he held him high above his head until the boy was a giggling mess.

 

Sansa let go of his arm and ran over to him as well, smoothing his hair off his face and peppering his cheeks in kisses. He hugged her, his head resting on her shoulder, his body still in Robb’s arms, perfectly at ease and delighted with his eldest siblings making such a fuss about him.

 

“Rickon Stark get over here right this instant,” Catelyn said sternly.

 

It sent a shiver through his spine even though it was in no way directed at him. Such was her power.

 

The little boy’s head popped off of Sansa’s shoulder but he held more tightly onto Robb, who shifted him slightly away from his mother. Sansa stepped just a _tiny_ bit in front of her brothers and Arya went to join them on Robb’s other side.

 

The Stark children had always stuck together like a pack of wolves.

 

“Mummy!,” Sansa, all honey, chose to distract by stepping forward to envelop her in a hug.

 

As she did so, Robb transferred Rickon to Jon’s waiting arms, who pulled him away with Theon. It was all deftly done and in spite of the fact that there was nothing that any of her children could do that would get the jump on Catelyn, she was clearly so excited to have all of them in one place that she didn’t seem to mind.

 

After that it was all a mess of tangled limbs and questions about the flight.

 

“Gendry, I’m so happy you chose to join us,” Catelyn said to him as she released him.

 

“Thanks for having me, Mrs. Stark,” he said genuinely, “It means a lot.”

 

“Nonsense,” she shooed him away then leaned in conspiratorially, “You make them behave a lot more than Theon does.”

 

He chuckled and nodded, because though he did very little to assuage Robb and Arya’s most reckless ideas, he certainly wasn’t the one proposing them like Theon was.

 

“Would you introduce me to your sister?,” Catelyn asked, glancing curiously at Ella who was standing with Sansa and her younger brothers.

 

“Of course,” he nodded, “El?”

 

Her golden head turned in his direction and her green eyes got a little wide but she plastered a dazzling smile on her face and walked the short distance over to join them.

 

“Hello Mrs. Stark, I’m Myrcella Baratheon. I’m so sorry my brother and I have invaded your holidays!”

 

“It sounded to me more like you were taken captive than anything else!,” Catelyn joked back, but she took her gently by the arms, the same way she had done to him after his mother had died and said, “You’re so welcome here, my dear. My children have spoken of little else since they met you, and I’ve been quite curious to meet you. The way they speak about you I wouldn’t be surprised if you suddenly took flight!”

 

Ella blushed but smiled, “Then I’m afraid they’ve set you up for a disappointment!”

 

Catelyn’s clear blue eyes appraised her and she gave a small smile, “Something tells me they haven’t.”

 

“What’s this?,” Robb asked, coming over and wrapping his arms around Ella’s neck and pulling her back against him.

 

Unless you knew her very well, as Gendry did, you might never have known how nervous Ella had been a moment ago until you saw the way she relaxed in Robb’s arms. It was the same way his whole body ceased to tense when Arya slipped her small hand into his, the way you could almost see Sansa’s back uncoil when Jon walked through the door.

 

“Just meeting your lovely girlfriend,” Catelyn told him.

 

“Oh please, Mum,” Arya argued, appearing at Ella’s side and taking her arm “She’s _our_ friend, she just hangs out with him out of pity.”

 

“It’s to fulfil her community service requirement, really,” Sansa nodded, appearing on her other side, then stage-whispered, “But don’t tell him that or we’ll have a weeper on our hands.”

 

“University has really changed you,” Robb jokingly scolded Sansa, “You used to be so sweet.”

 

***

 

**Sansa**

 

“Ooh it’s _sweet!_ ,” Theon exclaimed excitedly after taking a sip of the drink she’d made him.

 

They all turned to look at him until he grumbled at all of them to go to each of the seven hells and send him a postcard.

 

They had finished the first of what would be many family dinners and were now out on the terrace of the estate her family was renting for the holidays. They had all spent the afternoon on the beach and were varying degrees of tan and pink and even in the case of her shoulders, red. Everyone looked more relaxed than they had done in weeks and she was so happy that they were all happy and together and safe.

 

She leaned against Jon, revelling in the warmth that seeped out from his t-shirt clad shoulder. His arm went behind her and he start tracing soothing, comforting circles on her back, which was bared in her halter top.

 

Rickon was sleeping on the bench beside her, his head in her lap. He had been so excited to see them all that their parents hadn’t forced him to bed, but he had fallen asleep to the sound of his older siblings’ laughter before the dessert plates had even been cleared.

 

She stroked her hand through his russet curls, so like Robb’s, and marvelled at how much he’d grown in her semester away. Bran too, had seemed to have aged, and though she would have denied it over the summer, he looked old enough to be starting at Arryn Academy next fall.

 

He had retired to bed, book in hand, after securing Jon and Theon’s promise to go sailing tomorrow morning. Her parents had waved them off as well when they’d asked them to stay for more wine, citing tired eyes and old bones.

 

So it was that she and her friends, and her littlest brother, sat in the warm Dornish breeze, still sitting around the table. There was a plate of fruit still being picked at and far too many empty bottles of wine.

 

Everyone’s cheeks were pink, either from the sun or the alcohol, and they all looked fresh from the bath. More importantly they all seemed to be breathing more soundly, as though they had left all of the drama and heartache of the last semester on their snowy campus.

 

So much had changed in the past semester. She could never have guessed when she packed her bags for her first year of university that she’d be here now, with a new best friend, that that best friend would be dating her brother and would have come to find her own. And to be perfectly honest, she would not have predicted that Jon, the love of her young life, would have been sitting here now, openly rubbing her back for all the world to see.

 

So it hadn’t been all bad. In some ways, it had been the best few months of her life.

 

“ _I love you_ ,” she whispered in Jon’s ear.

 

His hand dipped into the material of her halter top, gripping her ribs lightly. He turned and rested his chin on her head, pulling her ever so slightly closer to him as he sipped his drink. He didn’t say anything, he had no need to. She was certain of his love every second of every day and she could feel it radiating off of him now in waves.

 

Something flashed and she glanced over to find Ella holding a camera. They both shared a love of art and photography, and Ella had been snapping pictures all afternoon of their friends young and tan and happy.

 

“I’d like a copy of that,” Jon told her.

 

“I’ll give it you guys as a wedding present,” she promised.

 

“I’m gonna get you a hooker,” Theon offered.

 

“Why on earth would I want that?,” Jon asked in disgust.

 

“Who said I was talking to you?,” Theon challenged.

 

This sent them all into a fit of hysterics, until she had to get up and go to the ladies room for fear of peeing in her pants. She had to wake up Rickon to do so.

 

“Sansa?,” he yawned.

 

“Come on, buddy, I’m gonna take you to bed,” Robb said and he stood up.

 

He leaned down and whispered something in Ella’s ear and she nodded, and he straightened up once again and came to grab Rickon from her lap.

 

She followed her brothers into the house. Her parents had chosen well. It had enough bedrooms for everyone, and they had wisely put themselves in a separate wing with Bran and Rickon so that they didn’t have to think about whether everyone was sleeping in the room alotted to them. It was a quintissential example of the turn of the century Dornish style, back when there wasn’t any air conditioning, so the stone walls served as a cooling system.

 

Her bedroom had a large balcony off of it and a view overlooking the sea. She loved it here already.

 

“Where’s he sleeping again?,” Robb asked her.

 

“The room next to Mum and Dad,” she told him, “This way.”

 

She led him into the room where Rickon was staying and went into the bathroom as Robb pulled off Rickon’s sneakers and started getting him ready for bed.

 

When she came out she grabbed pyjamas for him (her mother always unpacked as soon as they arrived on vacation) and they helped him into them and got him into bed.

 

They each kissed him on the forehead and then went to go return to their friends.

 

“Robb? Sansa?,” Rickon asked as they neared the door.

 

“Yeah bud?,” Robb asked.

 

“I missed you,” he confessed sleepily.

 

Her and Robb’s eyes met and without speaking they both went back to the bed and kissed him once more on the head.

 

“We missed you too, little wolf,” she promised, “Sleep tight.”

 

They walked out of the room and closed the door. Rickon was like Robb, even in a new place he had never shared the fear of the dark that she and their other siblings had at his age.

 

“I think it’s going well,” Robb said as though he’d been thinking about it all afternoon.

 

“I do too,” she agreed.

 

“Do you think they like her?,” he asked.

 

Sansa grinned, “Yes, I think that’s a fair assumption.”

 

To no one’s surprise her parents had taken a liking to Ella. They both knew a bit of what was going on, so they would have been sympathetic no matter what, and they would have had open minds knowing how much they all cared about her, but she had seen it. The way her father had burst out laughing at a story she’d told, how mother had smiled watching Ella fuss over Gendry’s sunburn.

 

“Do you think she likes them?,” he asked.

 

“Yes…,” she allowed.

 

“But?,” he prompted.

 

She sighed, because she knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go, “But she could be ready to marry you tomorrow, Mum and Dad could adopt her, and it’s not going to make a bit of difference.”

 

“I don’t want her near them,” he said sternly.

 

“I think you’ve made your feelings on that incredibly obvious,” she pointed out.

 

Robb and Gendry were perfectly aligned on this one. Arya too, agreed, but wisely said nothing having learned from experience that trying to protect Ella by making decisions for her helped no one. Jon was keen to head to King’s Landing and bury the lot of them, but he’d never try and tell Ella her own mind. And Sansa was torn.

 

She couldn’t understand how a family member could do this, rob them of the future that they wanted to satisfy their own selfish desires. She didn’t trust people like that, and she didn’t want Ella around them. However, she also didn’t believe that it was as simple as that, because while the Lannisters were by no means the family that she deserved, they still were her family.

 

“I’ve been doing more research…,” Robb persisted.

 

“She asked you not to,” Sansa reminded him.

 

“I know,” he shrugged.

 

“You told her you wouldn’t lie to her,” she said pointedly.

 

They had just gotten past all of that, and now he was going to muck it up.

 

“I didn’t. I told her everything on the plane. She clarified some things.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I don’t want her going back there,” he said uselessly.

 

“And how does she feel about that?,” she wondered.

 

“She told me it wasn’t my decision,” he said as if by rote.

 

“And what did you say?”

 

“That I’d make it my decision.”

 

“You’re an idiot.”

 

“Yeah, she made that perfectly clear.”


End file.
